


When a Mage Decides to Adopt. Magic Style

by An_Ephemeral_Walk



Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Other, The Gangs All Here, eventually, or rather, the human version no one really needed but I wrote anyway, there is necromancy but no characters will likely die in this, they are human in this, they arent exactly human, they don't have their cartoon forms, they were dead but now they aren't, this is more for comedy than anything, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-05-13 01:57:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 90,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14739887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_Ephemeral_Walk/pseuds/An_Ephemeral_Walk
Summary: A mage with muscles and magic for days decides he's lonely. Not lonely enough to come crawling back to his sister who shall not be named though. So he decides to dig up a couple souls from Hell, and craft bodies for em. What kind of muscle-y mage would he be if he didn't go the extra mile and ruin death's and the Devil's day, after all! He's just got to prepare first, which shouldn't be hard for him all things considered. Now if only he could stop tearing his books apart and get the land to stop screaming about 'not being ready for child rearing.'





	1. Muscle eye for the Mage guy

**Author's Note:**

> So I'll be honest, this was born from a need to have a human...esque... AU for this fandom, but not the dull version. I don't intend on making many of them plain humans but you'll find out what they are as they are introduced. Please note that I don't have a solid plan for this thing, and as such, I will be trying to avoid ending on cliffhangers or things of that nature. It will definitely follow the game, just, in a different way. With that, enjoy!

Twas a long time ago, on a small set of islands where a strong and powerful mage lived. He had muscles for days and enough magic to power the planet for years on end without feeling even the slightest fatigue. After living for close to a century, he decided he was lonely. Not quite lonely enough to go looking for where ever his younger sister was and move near her though. He was well aware that boat had sailed, or sunk, a while ago. So, he decided that, since he’d already intimidated the land itself into making a home for him, he might as well go one step further and have it help him craft life. Since there was no one to tell him no, not that it would do much anyway, he went all in. 

Building one’s house on an island that holds the birth point to all magic in the land had its perks. The biggest one was that even if he had been a weak mage, he still could have done what he was plotting. He decided he would craft two children, let the young’n’s breathe a little excitement into his days-- and clean his dishes for him. So, giving a cursory ‘I’m doing this, don’t try to stop me, we both know it won’t end well for you’ thought to the land below, he cracked open the books. As in, literally cracked the books, having muscles for days does not lend to delicate page flipping.  
The land had hissed to him as best it could warnings such as ‘you’ll lose all your strength if you do this.’ ‘You’ll lose all your magic if you do this.’; ‘Seriously don’t do this, I’m fairly certain you using my power too makes me the mother and I’m not ready for children.’; ‘You left the gas on and you expect me to believe you’ll be a good parent?’

Upon hearing the final warning, he decided to just crank up the spite dial and ensure the two would receive not only a piece of himself, but of the land as well.  
\--- 0 --- 0 --- 0 ---  
First came getting the souls. Having muscles for days made it hilariously easy to tear a hole into Hell, storm the castle as it was, and choke two poor souls out of the Devils grip. He left a path of confusion and destruction; and a Lord of Hell sobbing and asking a living cigar where he went wrong.

Second came ensuring he grabbed proper souls, he wasn’t exactly into dealing with adult souls crying about being forced into child bodies. Not to mention all the logistics of forcing an older soul into a young form, fake or not. Looking upon the two clearly young souls huddled close to one another, he figured it was close enough. They might end up being cowardly but given enough stare downs they’d grow metaphorical spines. 

Third came building the perfect bodies for them. He painstakingly read up on doll making, the land built him a proper kiln, and he got to work. He decided on porcelain, putting the ashes of his once glorious beard into the mix to ensure they’d be as flexible as his beard had been. It wouldn’t do to have living stiffs waddling about his home after all. He had spent two weeks on each face, making them unique and yet close enough to be called siblings. If the souls hadn’t been related before this, they sure as hell were about to be. However, muscles for days and one ill timed sneeze and he was stuck staring at a pile of porcelain shards. The land shook that day, the waters receded out of fear, birds that didn’t spontaneously combust from being in range of his wrath flew as fast as they could away. It took one solid day for him to calm down, remember he had magic and could put them back together. It took another day for him to apologize to the various lives he had ruined, call the water a weenie for fleeing, and then fix the heads. 

Now, the fact that they broke told him he needed to do more, he needed to give the porcelain something to help it out. So, he whipped out his old metalworks apron, cracked open his clockwork books, fixed the tears, and got to reading. After much trial and error (and three more temper tantrums, though anyone that called them that promptly burst into flames) he had perfected the bodies. He proudly stared at his work, taking in everything, from the white hair on their heads to their adorable (and painstakingly carved) toes. Sure, one was a tad thinner, with a softer frame, and their jaw had a habit of unhinging and falling off, but that was what runes warding against breakage were for! Besides, the other was his second attempt, and sturdy enough to not only take all the strength he was going to pour into them, but also protect his sibling.

The fourth and final step was introducing the souls into their bodies one by one and then giving them his everything. Well, everything minus his knowledge, he was absolutely looking forward to lording the old ‘wise elder’ over their heads. He decided the first one would be the sturdier one. To that one, he’d give up his muscles for days and imbue the child with all of his power crunched into their new four-foot three frame. So, with the land angrily screaming something about child support, he grabbed the more red tinged soul, shushed the blue soul, and started the process.

It was a long and arduous process, he found himself as weak as his actual age group was and was far from amused. His mourning over the loss of the buff ability to pry open pickle jars with ease all but vanished the first time he saw the child blink. It was also the moment he realized he forgot to put eyes in the faces and instead of warm brown like he wanted, two snapping red irises of light stared at him. They were coin sized and he decided they were far cooler than the lame glass eyes anyway. the white porcelain behind the light being illuminated as well made it look a little more normal at least.  
While that one slept off the rather intense shift from being a ball of life to being a doll of life, he got to work on the second. The land let out one final roll about how it demanded visitation rights and a hand in how they were raised, then grew silent. He was well aware it was silent because this was where he had to connect the doll up to the land while feeding it his power so if he fell unconscious the soul wouldn’t be left with less than what he intended to give it. Without his strength, he wasn’t sure how well his body would hold up. Ah well, in for a pinch in for a pound and all that. It wasn’t like it would kill him.

As it turned out, it did try, luckily for him, and the land (it wasn’t ready for children and it definitely wasn’t ready to be a single parent) it failed. It also informed the mage that he was feared in Hell. Frankly he wasn’t aware of many who had popped up in Hell only to be met by a scream and frantic rushes to get away from him and get him out at the same time. He’d have to make a get-well basket for Death. Poor bastard hadn’t deserved being shaken for ‘bringing the crazy old guy in here.’  
He returned to the land of the living to two children standing over his fallen form. One with the red lights in a white void and the other, the new one, with blue. Interestingly enough, he noted, their porcelain had also taken on respective tinges of their soul colors. Which was great news for him and his habit of being terrible at picking out who was who. 

“Aww, shucks. I told ya the old fella hadn’t croaked.” The red eyed one spoke, relief clear in his voice. 

“Gosh brother, that’s not something someone wants to hear after waking up from fainting!” The blue one said, sending a scolding look to his fellow mechanical doll. 

The mage reached for his magic, only to find a small trickle left from his former limitless ocean. He sighed heavily, but then he decided to focus on his two new children instead. He reached his hand up, ready to find something to pull himself up with, but his hand was grabbed instead by the red one and, he’s basically flung into the air. There was screaming, there was apologies, and there was ice, lots, and lots, of ice. It was then that he realized he had never thought what the consequences of giving two young souls his strength and magic without teaching them first. 

The land of Inkwell sobbed a little at thoughts of future destruction, and called the Elder a moron.


	2. Names would be handy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Names are given, a brief talk of the past is done, and the first card is put on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I was more confident in my art, and had finished pieces, I'd be adding art to this. As it stands, art will be added to this. I felt guilty about the fact that one story had two chapters and the other didn't. the updates might not be this fast but I can promise I'll do my best to keep this a healthy mix of fun and function.

               Elder rocked slowly on his stuffed to the gills, pillowed, rocking chair. He had the expression of a person so deep in thought that the house could be on fire around them and they wouldn’t notice. Which, had actually happened a couple times, the blue one hadn’t figured out how to control the massive amount of magic he inherited quite yet. This time that wasn’t the case, Elder didn’t know what he’d do if he had to deal with the red one trying to help but ripping off the entire roof instead, one more time. He’d probably smack them with his newly made cane, not that it would do a lick of good. There was also the problem of the blue ones’ jaw. It kept falling off the poor fella’s face. The first time it happened the blue one had cried for a solid five minutes while the red one desperately flailed. _Apparently_ when it came to dealing with the blue one, the red one was _suddenly_ well aware of his hidden muscles for days and was afraid to touch the clearly more fragile blue one.

               Elder was mighty glad he had given his strength the stronger body to the fiery little red one. He was fairly certain if he hadn’t he’d be in a lot more trouble and would be dealing with a lot more mockery from Inkwell. As it was, the two were currently sitting by the fireplace reading the various books he had. It brought a tear to his eye the first time the red one cracked a book in half and looked at Elder like he couldn’t believe the books weren’t made for beef masters. The blue one tended to start humming when it looked like the red one was getting too annoyed or twitchy. Elder was genuinely curious if he really had grabbed a couple of sibling souls. He figured if he had then he was pretty lucky considering he had just stormed up to the devil, who had been just starting to puff up and shape shift. He had grabbed the wry little fella by the neck, dragged him close and had said

“Souls, two of them. _Hand them over._ ” In as plain a voice as he could. Frankly he still wasn’t sure why old scratch had squealed like a pig and cried something about not having asked someone out yet. It wasn’t as if he was being too threatening, he’d merely wanted to get in and get out.

               All things considered he probably did grab sibling souls, what with how the two acted and had no problem calling each other ‘brother’. They also spoke with quite young voices. It appeared like the blue one was older based on his gentler personality. However, if they really were young, Elder wondered just _how_ young and what got the two booted off into the afterlife. He wasn’t quite sure how to ask them and debated if he really wanted to find out. He didn’t want to accidentally have to sit through an hour-long rant like he had when he ran across that lady in the observatory. He’d bash his cane on the next soul that thought one question meant ‘rant and scream at me about yourself’.

               He also had to figure out if they remembered their names or if he had to give them names. He was horrid at naming things and while he _had_ picked names out for them based on a few things, they were… subpar. Well, if he didn't ask, he'd be flying blind, and he never got anywhere by flying blind. Unless the time he ran into a rather large woman while he was whale surfing counted. That had been quite the experience, and he still fondly remembered giving the whales a boost in swim speed and leaving her in his wake. Snapping back to the present, he let his eyes wander to the two porcelain dolls once again.

               Thus far he had seen no real issues aside from the blue one’s jaw. The runes ensured it didn’t break when landing where ever it did, and he’d yet to hear a grinding screech. He was quite glad he’d put runes on their joints to make them slide and move just as easily as any fleshy person’s joints could. The gears inside helped give them stability and since they used soul liquid to stay lubricated he didn't worry about rust or wear and tear there. His beard allowing for the porcelain to bend a bit more also helped, magic could be quite helpful for the dandiest things really. The blue one had gotten the curlier strands of his beard it seemed, his white hair was a bit more wavy and puffy. He spoke far less than his sibling, but that could be because he feared his jaw unhinging, or because he was quite good at saying what was needed with fewer words.

               The red one, oh he was definitely asking about names after he finished sorting his thoughts, had straighter hair. He also refused to stay in his bed and would be found either by his brother or on the couch. He clearly took pride in being stronger and had teased the blue one about the jaw thing. Apparently, the jaw issue had carried on from past, or rather, living, jaw problems. Elder refused to think hard on that, and the implications that he had pulled a Seer move.

               “Kids, “Elder called out, drawing the attention of the two and beckoning them over.

               “Now, I feel like I may not have fully planned a few things out. So I’d like to start by fixing a few things. First on the list, I don’t think I ever asked your names.” At the mention of names, the two looked at one another and shrugged.

               “Elder, we don’t remember what our real names are. But I recall I called my brother Mugs a lot because it was the only thing he would take drinks in. He even complained about soup being in bowls and not mugs!” The red one remarked. Elder decided at that point he was going to find Lady Luck or whoever controlled chance and rip their nose off. He also decided he’d take the fact that his first set of names had pertained to the fact that he lost a lot of mugs making the first one and had to sacrifice his favorite cup to the second one, to his grave. He sincerely hoped the second one didn’t have any allusions to cups.

               “I actually can’t remember too much, but I do have a memory where my brother swiped a tea cup from mother’s collection and acted like one of those ladies dressed to the nines at the tea shops.” The blue one said with a thoughtful expression on his face. Elder nodded once, he then nodded twice and then leaned back.

               “Fine, you will be Mugman, and you will be Cuphead.” The children stared at him like they were honestly starting to wonder if they were safe in the house of a potentially senile old man. After a few moments, the blue one, Mugman, or Mugs, shrugged. His brother, Cuphead, clearly held back what would likely be a snarky remark and shrugged as well.

               “Now that names are taken care of. What do you remember about your first go at life?” Elder asked. He figured in for a penny, in for a pound and all that. He might as well see if he could understand them better so they’d stop doing that sibling talk thing. He only knew that’s what it was because he and his sister gave each other that same look when deciding who was going to give a cover story to their angry mother, bless her still living soul. As expected, it was Cuphead that answered.

               “Well, I know that I’m the eldest by a year I think. I remember our ma had penny copper hair too. ‘Mugs got it from her’ she’d say a lot. I remember we lived in the city and pa would get nervous if he couldn’t see us or if we wandered too far away when we went with him for errands.” He paused as if trying to get a better grasp on memories of a past life. Elder noted he had guessed who was older wrong.

               “I know you got darker hair from dad, and I know he lost us once and mother knocked him around with her purse when we came back on our own.” Mugman supplied a bit of his own side of things. One of his hands reached up and he started tapping his index finger on his nose in thought.

               “Oh yeah! She was almost steaming’ she was so angry! Kept screaming ‘what father can’t find his own children!’ I remember that we got to our… eleventh and tenth birthday, it’s on the same day, or I guess it was, being reborn and all. And we got sick. Or, I got sick and then it got to Mugs.” Cuphead seemed to get lost in less fun memories, so Mugman picked up from there.

               “It was horrible. We were coughing up blood a lot. Mother got real nervous and scared, and we were put in the hospital. The last thing I remember is crying when brother wouldn’t wake up.” Elder winced. He recalled hearing about the flu that hit the mainland hard a few years ago. It had taken out quite a few people and he guessed these two were casualties of it. That explained why Cuphead refused to stay in bed long.

               “Hey, remember that time I swiped a necklace from one of the nurses?” Cuphead nudged his brother’s shoulder. Mugman perked up and smacked a hand across his mouth, hiding his laughter.

               “She was the head nurse Cuphead, and she thought it was that fella that swiped apple slices off of the cart when he could.” Mugman said between giggles.

               “Yeah, but I _distinctly_ recall you didn’t snitch on your big brother. Always acted like your jaw was locked when she came askin’ you for answers.”

               “Gosh but it really did lock up!” Mugman batted his darker grey lashes innocently and adopted a wide eyed harmless look. The too sweet expression almost made Elder shed a tear at how manipulative it was. Hell, he was half tempted to take the tykes to that fancy casino that sat a few islands away from his just to see what would happen. The two brothers broke into laughter in the next second, falling over onto the plush rug. He’d think more about paying a visit later, after they had gotten a bit better at control.

               “Well,” Elder smacked his hands onto his knees and stood up, a cacophony of creaks and groans accompanied the motion which, he selectively ignored. “I do believe now that we’ve got that taken care of. It’s time we really got started on teaching you two a bit about controlling what I gave you. My strength and magic aren’t anything to scoff at if I do say so myself.”

               The two brothers let out a few more snickers and giggles here and there before they stood up as well, their eyes sparkling with excitement. Inkwell shuddered and braced for more mayhem and destruction. The tree’s wished each other luck and the animals that weren’t too dull to realize danger when Elder had first started training and the thought of a round two scared it more than anything ever should.

               Its’ fears were proven valid when, within the first five minutes, Mugman had frozen all water within a three-hundred-meter radius and Cuphead had accidentally broken two trees in half while trying to climb them.

\--- 0 --- 0 --- 0 ---

               Somewhere, in a glitzed-up casino, a train dropping off the dead thundered by. Within the gilded building, past the horse track and a little to the left of the card tables, a black furred king of Hell felt a shudder crawl down his spine. He dropped his pen mid signature and glanced around. His manager, who had been turning on his heel to leave, paused.

               “Boss?”

               “It was nothin’, King. Head back out before Wheezy sets something on fire.” The Devil waved the man away. The dark-skinned man arched one perfectly shaped brow and tilted his head.

               “Sure thing, but, I still think you should figure out how to fire-proof this place.” He remarked in a teasing tone.

               “Yeah, and I think you should figure out whether I’m joking when I say I’ll use your head as a ball if you snark at me again.” The Devil leaned over his desk, his form shaking and growing larger until he towered over a still clearly amused manager.

               “Of course, boss.” King Dice said, adjusting his pure white gloves, hiding the empty air within the sleeve. With a bow and a graceful twist, King Dice was gone, the door closing quietly behind him. The Devil let out a breath, and silently vowed to find a way to get back to heaven and beat the holy out of his dad if anything happened before he could get his manager to agree to a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Try to guess what King Dice is, hint, he isn't human.


	3. That's a nice casino you got there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be a shame if something...happened to it. The second card is placed on the table and it's quite the result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I figured out how to add pictures, as I get them drawn and finished, you can expect to see images to go along with these chapters. I thought about drawing the image and then posting it and the chapter but the art took longer than I thought so...

             It took three long, _long_ weeks to get the two, oh what was the word Elder would use—Adequate. Three weeks to get them adequate at their skills. Mugman had discovered he could do many astounding things with his almost limitless magic, including reversing the gravity on his brother a few times. Until Cuphead apologized for whatever prank of the day he pulled on his clearly” innocent-because-you’ll-never-prove-me-guilty” brother. It was refreshing and endearing to see the two brothers interact, but oh the sibling fights. His had been pretty one sided once he got his workouts and magic beef ups started. His sister only had so much swinging power after all, and she was the reason he was so good at dodging ungodly fast projectiles too. The two brothers couldn’t quite go all out brawling like he could with that copper haired adder in human skin that was his sister. Cuphead forgot his strength _once_ and had flat out ripped Mugman’s arm clean off; he never forgot again.

             Cuphead had stopped misjudging his strength and finally figured out how to control just how much he used. Frankly, Elder was impressed that Cuphead only tore a few books a week rather than, well, any that he got his hands on. The two also took on other hobbies, things it seemed like they always wanted to do but never could. Mugman seemed pretty eager to learn about cooking and baking, often making Elder’s meals once he had figured out how to work the oven and stove-top. Cuphead just seemed to love that he could _do_ things. He would dust off the shelves and beat the dirt out of the rug and just wander about and clean. It was obvious he adored seeing his efforts clearly in how the house grew warmer and had a far fresher smell. Both of them loved sewing, but Cuphead only seemed to like quick things or things he could sew while moving around. His brother helped him there by casting a wing spell on the spools of yarn so they’d float and follow Cuphead around. As it turned out they were quick learners and rather good at what they did.

               Another thing the two were amazingly good at was math. It seemed they had exceled by leaps and bounds when it came to numbers. The day Elder showed the two some nifty card games he had once used to pass the time was a day he’d treasure for the rest of his life. They’d immediately broken down the deck, learned the rules, and started to figure out the best way to go about winning. It was now a guarantee that he’d have to drag them to the casino far across the way.

               What better way to show the two the more desperate side of humanity than at a casino! Elder figured the best way to ensure the kids would be fine once Death finally realized he didn’t have near as much magic rejuvenating his body would be to toss them into the fray. It might also help them learn that their new bodies simply didn’t do the things they seemed to think they did. Dolls didn’t feel pain, there were no nerves after all, and porcelain was well known for being able to withstand high temperatures. Yet the first time Mugman moved like a doll would and just grabbed a hot dish, he panicked in the next second and dropped it. Ruined what had looked like damn amazing lasagna too.

                They didn’t need to eat either, in fact, eating would muck up their innards and the first time he had needed to clean out Cuphead’s gears had been an ungodly mix of things. First came pulling the kid’s head off. Which had resulted in a lot of screaming, until he had managed to calm them both down. Poor Mugman looked two seconds off from sobbing and kept trying to reach for Cuphead’s…head. Cuphead’s body seemed torn between reaching for his head and just falling over.

              “Boys! I can’t get to your access port without removing your heads!” Elder had boomed, the land under the house shook violently and the two children froze.  Inkwell preened for three seconds, and then gave a small roll upon realizing all the screaming had stopped. By the depths of its’ ocean, no family that it was a part of would have even a _single_ major fight.

              “He’s fine Mugman, you’re fine. Boys, you aren’t human anymore, I spent weeks modeling those bodies of yours, I know what they can and cannot do. I’ve even shown you the blueprints!” He scolded the two, turning Cuphead to face him.  Mugman gave a quiet sniffle and grabbed Cuphead’s hand, flinching hard when the hand squeezed back. Elder turned the head in his hands to face the area it had occupied on the body and lo and behold, there was a small hole in the middle with two near invisible lines leading from it towards the back in a v shape.

             “If you ever need to take a gander at your souls, you can remove your heads and open up your backs. Don’t do this out in the open of course, it’s rude, there’d be screaming, and then I’d be visited by people I never want to see again.” Elder told them. Inkwell tossed in a quiet hiss at the thought of having sole custody. It would sooner turn into a flat piece of dirt than have to watch over those two more than it already had to.

            “Besides, I wouldn’t have to do this if _someone_ hadn’t tried eating cookies despite being told _not to_.” The displeased stare he gave them was enough to keep the boys quiet for the whole time he spent cleaning the gears. Just as he finished and had pressed the back panel into place once more he heard Cuphead mutter a very quiet “Worth it,” to his brother, who had taken Cuphead’s skull so Elder had two hands. These kids would be the death of him, he thought, thousand-yard stare firmly in place.

\---0---0---0---

              It was a few days after that that he decided it was time to release his creations into the world. It was a day that few would forget. Well, the island they basically wiped out might not remember but Elder was fairly certain that there had been no living creatures on it. Inkwell grumbled and roiled under Elder’s feet as he led the children towards town.

             “It’s okay good friend, with the way I made these two, you’ve got centuries of fun ahead of you!” He said, giving no attention to the confused stares from the two running around ahead of him. Inkwell froze, the birds and animals locked into place, the ocean stopped moving entirely. Three seconds later everything let out a violent scream of horror, even the fish.

\---0---0---0---

           The carnival on the isle was abuzz with all sorts of activities. Elder didn’t visit town often, his little island being a good five hundred meters away as per the towns polite request—read: restraining order.  Growing up in the city meant he wasn’t gawking at everything but the children, who likely hadn’t seen too much of their home, were. He had already shelled out money to get the two fiddler caps. Mugman had spotted a light blue one and stars had all but formed in his eyes. Elder had blinked and the next second the two were sporting a light blue hat and a bright red hat respectively. He took a moment to fervently wonder if his memory was failing or if this was what parenthood was like.

           There was chatter all around, a nearby quartet was merrily singing away and cheerful noises filled the air. It was practically a paradise for the younger folks, though Elder couldn’t help but smile a tad as well. If anyone asked, he could easily point out the other parents and adults who were also smiling. That or threaten them with his cane, can’t talk the talk and walk the walk when knees are being shattered.

           “Boys,” Elder called out and the two boys immediately scurried back over to him. He noted that their porcelain faces were flush with their respective colors, and their eyes were bright with excitement. He’d love to continue watching them but his magic could no longer keep his joints pristine and his muscles for days were now more like muscles for a few hours.

           “Now I’m going to go sit on that bench right over there. If you need anything just let Inkwell know. It won’t be able to do much but it will guide you back to me. That is, it will if it wants to continue having an active roll in raising you two. Go have fun and remember, protect each other. Don’t do anything that will destroy expensive things and if a stranger tells you to follow them… remember to go for the knees first.” The two gave affirmative nods and, after Cuphead ripped a tree out of the ground and planted it back into the dirt next to Elder so he’d have a bit of shade, they started off.

            “Oh! Before I forget,” Mugman skid to a halt and Cuphead smacked into him causing Mugman’s jaw to fall off. While Mugman dusted off his jaw and glared at his brother, Elder continued on.

           “Don’t go near that casino across the train tracks until I’m with you. That’s not the sort of place you should be going to without an adult to tell you about the perils of gambling and all that. No eating anything either, I’ll not have another _incident._ I’ll try and catch up in an hour so go have fun.” And with that, the two darted off. Elder got the feeling that telling the two to not go into the building just sealed its fate. But that’s what the request to not destroy anything expensive was for!

\---0---0---0---

           The largest isle had a marina and the boys gleefully explored the docks. Cuphead raced ahead and would take in the surrounding area then race back and pull Mugman in the most promising direction. He made sure to never lose sight of his younger sibling however, taking full care in Elder’s words to protect. Mugman was often distracted by the numerous flowers and the ships docked across the way, so he accepted his brothers tugs readily. Besides, of the two of them, Mugman was the one with an actual sense of direction. So, if the two got lost, he was fairly confident he could lead his brother if needed. Knowing Cuphead’s sense of direction, Mugman wouldn’t be surprised if they wound up on the mainland, boat or not.

          As they approached a bridge they heard the shrill whistle of what they guessed was a train. No motor buggy they knew sounded so loud. From a carved-out hole in the mountainside, a train thundered out and screamed past their spot on the edge of the bridge. Once it was past they noticed the curious sight of velvet red steps leading into the mountain. A glitzy sign above making it clear they had found the casino that Elder had told them not to go to. However, what Elder had yet to discover, was that Cuphead was not one for idly sitting on his curiosity. The stairs being red and gold did not help either, and before Mugman could even open his mouth or tug his brother away, the two were entering the cave.

\---0---0---0---

            Even if Mugman had wanted to stop Cuphead before, the sight of the casino pushed all thoughts other than ones of awe out of their minds. Sparing a glance at the two rows of massive red dice leading up to the door they darted inside. Curiously, there was no one there to stop them. Had King Dice actually been there, or even Mangosteen, maybe what befell the casino wouldn’t have happened. Then again, it was the Devil’s casino and thus far any and all regulatory folk had ‘mysteriously vanished’. Screening visitors to the casino was more a cursory gesture than anything anyway. As it was, the two simply watched the doors open with seemingly no one present, stepped in, and the sounds and lights washed over them.

           They wandered a tad, getting a feel for the massive building. From the front and off to the right there was what looked like a balcony, and it gave a view of a horse track well below the floor they were currently on.. The stands were full of skeletons and creatures of various kinds. Demented horses let out various unholy noises as they ran, though if the two really listened closely they thought they could hear someone just saying the word ‘neigh’. Behind them, a sudden clamor pulled their attention from the cheers below and they watched as a dark tan skinned man with slicked back black hair and biceps thicker than their midsections drag a screaming patron from a table. No one around seemed keen on getting in the man’s way so the boys, with a shared glance, vowed to do the same.

           As they followed the man with their eyes, Cuphead noticed a thin woman with a rather colorful skirt smack away a patron’s wandering hand. He idly wondered if the man had been trying to pick pocket her but angry shouting drew his attention once more to a set of tables beyond the ones with what looked like wheels on them. Mugman started towards that direction, mostly drawn to the sound of shuffling cards and the flurry of movement from the dealers. He decided that was the best place to start and lightly pulled his brother towards the card tables. Sure that was where the clamor was coming from, but he had recently gained adequate control of gravity magic and figured if anyone tried to hurt either of them he’d just give them a new home on the rather high up ceiling. Elder had said no destroying anything expensive looking after all.

         They bypassed the table where a skeleton smacked its’ hands angrily onto the table and lurch towards a man in a purple suit. The man seemed highly unimpressed, one eyebrow arched high, but a dazzling smile grew on his face and he had the skeleton soothed in a matter of a few sentences. The boys were too far away and there was too much noise to hear what he had said though.

        “Mugs look,” Cuphead nudged his brothers arm and gave a mental cheer when Mugman didn’t even stumble. “That's the game Elder showed us. Oh! That’s the one we saw those fellas on the street play! Look, they even have those weird coins.”

        “Those weird coins are chips, and they’re the currency of this casino.” A highly accented and rough voice behind them caused Cuphead to flail and Mugman to jump a solid three feet into the air. It was the man they had vowed to stay away from, and it was quickly becoming evident that vowing anything resulted in a guarantee that the thing vowed against would happen.

         “Oh,” Mugman finally said, his voice pitched a tad high. The man arched one thick eyebrow and he grinned, yellowed teeth drawing their attention for a split moment.

         “Awful gutsy for a couple of tykes to wander into the Devil’s casino. ‘specially since it seems to be your first stroll into one. What brings you munchkins to this fine establishment?” The man had the air of a far too confident person and the boys swore they could see smoke rising up from the guy’s hair. Cuphead immediately angled himself so he’d be in front of Mugman and he gave the man a confident smile.

          “We wanted to see what all the fuss was about.  We figured what with it being the head honcho of Hell’s place it would be better than any other casino.  So far, I’m not all that impressed by it.” He spoke, his voice solid and his form steady. If he had been made of flesh his body might have been shaking, but it wasn’t and he was quite thankful for that. He felt Mugman lean in and hiss “Cuphead we’ve never _been_ in any other casino,” and promptly ignored him. The man’s grin widened considerably.

         “Well I tell you what, let me get you two set up so you can see the real magic of Big Boss’s grand casino. The name is Mr. Wheezy.” The man extended a faintly glowing hand, the air shimmered around it from some mysterious heat. Cuphead mirrored the man’s grin and firmly gripped Mr. Wheezy’s hand, giving it a sharp two shakes. Mr. Wheezy’s eyes widened and his grin faltered.

        “The names are Cuphead and Mugman, nice to meet you Mr. Wheezy.” If Cuphead sounded confident, it’s because he was, having porcelain skin and muscles for days did that. The polite smile he saw on his sibling’s face differed from his only in that it was far more subtly amused than his was. Holding back a pained wince Mr. Wheezy guided them to the casino bank and with a quick exchange of the coins they both had and a few extra chips thrown in by Mr. Wheezy, the two got started.

\---0---0---0---

            It was the panicked shrieking of the birds and Inkwell’s cry of ‘They’re exactly like you! They didn’t listen to a single sane word of advice! Where did I go wrong!’ that alerted Elder to a disturbance. It also told him that the kids were about to learn a thing. His cane creaked and the birds fled like their tails were on fire.

\---0---0---0---

            King Dice had seen a pair of young and strange looking children wandering about. At the time, he had been busy and figured his pit bosses could handle any pick pockets. Though he had a mild hope that no one would be stupid enough to try stealing from a demon, child or no. Then again, he wouldn’t be surprised if they did, he’d seen people do dumber things. He decided to pay far more attention to them when, upon passing over his spot to a wispy dealer, he saw them again. They had a sizeable pile of chips next to them and had migrated over to the die tables. According to the disbelieving noises, it seemed like the two were sweeping the craps table with ease. The boxman, who was in charge of trading out the chips, and his fellow dealers looked confused; but it was clear they could see no forms of cheating. Upon the result of the next roll the red hatted one let out a cheer and the blue hatted one did a little shuffle of clear excitement.

            He nudged one of the base dealers away and took their place, figuring it couldn’t hurt to watch for a little bit. The stickman next to him had the look of a man whose life just flashed before their eyes. Honestly, just because he had wandered over, and just because it was his least favorite table, did not mean the skeleton monitoring the center deals needed to worry. He pointedly avoided looking at the stupid giant chess piece behind him though, five years and his boss had yet to listen to his exasperated pleas for the rook pillar to be removed. ‘Adding class’ his ass, the thing was tacky and made this area his least favorite place to monitor. Another cheer brought him back to the current situation and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. The two had won another high bet and it didn’t look like their luck was running out at all. That simply wouldn’t do.

           “Hot dawg!” He exclaimed, a mock shocked expression on his face. “These fellas can’t lose!” And with that, the lights flickered and the imps in the rafters scattered. Between one flicker and the next the Devil stood at the other end of the casino in his full glory. His tall and imposing form immediately drew the attention of everyone and a hush fell over their little part of the casino. The Devil’s thin lips stretched into an unnaturally large grin, pointed teeth gleaming in the bright lights around him.

           “Nice run boys,” The king of hell’s voice sounded layered, as if there were multiple people speaking at once. King Dice loved it when his boss went all out, the reactions were always priceless and never ceased to amuse him. He gave a polite bow to the head of the casino, eyes flashing a vivid green for a split second. The Devil’s grin didn’t waver.

           “Now, how about we raise the stakes? Two high-rollers like yourselves deserve a bet like no other.” In the Devil’s hands, two bright red dice appeared and he held them out to the one with the red hat. King Dice noticed at that point that the grip the kid had on the table was actually cracking the wood and it was that moment he started getting a feeling. That wood was from the tree’s home grown in hell, and only a few very select people had ever even scratched those. Before he could get Devil’s attention however, the demon lord continued.

          “Win one more roll, and all the loot in this casino is yours. If you lose, however,” flames licked up around Devil’s feet, scorching the carpet. “I’ll have your souls, deal?” He let the dice in his hand jump about a bit, and the one in the red hat watched them with clear interest. The one in blue however, was clearly far smarter than the other.

          “Good gosh Cuphead, no!” The blue one reached for Cuphead’s arm to pull him away but it was too late. Cuphead nodded eagerly, grabbed the dice from the Devil’s fur covered clawed hands, and rolled them. The blue one watched in mute horror, the fellow dealers went ramrod straight, and King Dice took note of the strange glow of the boy’s eyes. The dice smacked onto the table, bounced a few times and came to a stop. For a few moments, no one moved, no one breathed and then the blue one gave what was clearly his brother the scariest glare King Dice had ever seen. The wood in Cuphead’s grasp shattered in his suddenly tight hold and the Devil called it.

           “Snake eyes! You lose!” He boomed, and the imps above let out a cacophony of shrieks and laughter. Cuphead looked at the result of his roll in disbelief, his brother’s face was flushing a vivid sky-blue color and that was when King Dice realized they weren’t human. But they couldn’t have made the bet if they didn’t have souls _to_ bet, so King Dice silently wondered just what the two were. The Devil vanished and reappeared before the boys, his form suddenly two times larger than it had been, he towered over everyone now. The fur on his arms puffed up and his sharp whip-like tail snapped back and forth in glee.

           “Now, about those souls of-“ The door to the casino suddenly burst off its hinges and flew across the room, shattering into pieces upon hitting the wall and Mangosteen flew in a moment after, his massive form tumbling head over heels until he crashed into Wheezy. Everyone was torn between looking at the door and looking at the Devil whose face was frozen. A frail looking old man shuffled in, and the Devil did something King Dice had never seen before, he shrieked like a little girl, grabbed King Dice and immediately tried to flee by scaling the nearby rook pillar.

“Boss?! What in the-“

           “Oh I wouldn’t run if I were you, Ol’ scratch!” the old man interrupted King Dice. The two boys lost all color to their skin and sheepishly turned to face the man. Devil froze once more, and King Dice took that opportunity to grab a nearby balcony railing and use it to squirm his way out of his boss’s tight grip.

            “I distinctly recall telling you two _not_ to go wandering into this place without me being with you! Why, if Inkwell hadn’t clued me in, I’d have never known you disobeyed me.” The man scolded as he and his cane clacked closer and closer. Cuphead sent a glance to the ground and muttered “snitch”. The only reason King Dice heard it was because no one else was making a sound.

            “Sorry Elder.” The two said in unison. Devil slowly perked up, and let go of the wall, slamming into the ground, a grin appearing on his face once again.

            “Oh? So these two brats are yours? Wait… are these the souls you swiped from me? I’d hate to tell you this, but even you ain’t strong enough to-“ The cane Elder had been leaning heavily on cracked across the Devil’s knee caps and the great lord of Hell went down with a screech of agony.

            “You take that tone with me you ugly furball and I’ll put you so far into the ground your ancestors will have to dig you out.” Elder spoke in such a way that King Dice had no problem believing he could and would do it. Wincing all the way, Devil stood back up, clearly favoring one leg over the other.

            “Don’t interrupt me, your boys made a bet and they lost. Their souls get to come right back to me. Besides, it looks like the only reason you’re even standing all high and mighty is thanks to the good ol’ dirt we walk on.” Devil snapped his teeth together, but King Dice noted that he didn’t go closer to the old man. Elder arched a brow and nodded, and that was the moment Cuphead seemed to puff his chest up and he kicked the Devil on the shin. There was a crack and another shriek and the Devil once again tasted the carpet. King Dice wished he could eat, because if he could he’d have gone through four bowls of popcorn by now.

             “You leave Elder alone you mean ol’ snake!” Cuphead shouted, planting himself in front of Elder and the blue one quickly followed. Devil let out an angry snarl and his clawed hands dug into the carpet but before he lunged the blue one spoke.

             “Surely there’s something we can do instead? I mean, there must be _something_ you want more than the souls of a couple of kids?” He held his hands up in a gesture meant to soothe the tension in the air and spoke in a tone much the same. His thinner frame let out tiny clinks and it was then that King Dice realized they were made of porcelain. Devil eyed the kid, clearly debating how much of a threat the clearly weaker looking one was, then looked towards the other two. Cuphead looked like he was seconds away from pulling the blue one behind him as well and Elder looked…almost pleased. Devil carefully picked himself up once more and pat down his fur covered chest.

              “Well, maybe there is,” he was tense, King Dice noted, ready to move.

              “I tell you two what, this here is a list of the other runaway debtors, you get their soul contracts for me and I just might pardon you two chumps.” A piece of paper appeared in front of the blue one and he grabbed it, only to have it snatched out of his hands by his brother. Before Cuphead could say anything, the blue one nodded and agreed.

               “You have until midnight tomorrow. Now get going! If you aren’t on time, I’ll be the one collecting yours!” After that, and despite the protesting of Cuphead, the three left. King Dice heard Cuphead angrily say

“Collect our souls? Based on this list you couldn’t collect the fur off your own tail.” But before anyone could do anything the blue one smacked the back of Cuphead’s head with his hand and hissed out a rather painful sounding promise of retribution if Cuphead made things worse. The three were gone from the building the next moment.

In the quiet of the casino, someone from the horse track shouted “Neigh” and Mangosteen let out a wheezing groan.


	4. A bunch of 'I told you so's'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first contract is gained and the second is found. or rather, finds them.

“Boy, I knew I was going to have to bolster up your body with magic to withstand the strength. I knew that I was going to have to be prepared for anything a kid might do. But what I didn’t realize, is that I needed to build your brother up just as much so he could withstand your lack of foresight!” Elder cracked his cane against the wooden floor, and sorely missed the sound of the wood actually cracking. The two children were sitting upright against the couch, thus far, Cuphead refused to look directly at Mugman who was scanning the list and eyeing the clock ticking away. It had been midway through the journey back home that Cuphead seemed to realize he had sold his brothers soul as well. He had locked up and started shaking hard enough that the sound runes couldn’t mute the screeching of his limbs.

               Elder hadn’t realized the porcelain bodies could cry but as it turned out, Cuphead’s could. Mugman, in response, had snatched the list out of his hand and lightly remarked that they had to get going or they’d never have time. Cuphead hadn’t said a word and just shuffled behind them. Now they sat in their home, Inkwell rolling angrily beneath them, making the house rattle. Mugman had started the process of getting a spell to find the debtors since Devil hadn’t told them who was who, and now they needed to wait for it to finish scanning across the land.

               “I told you not to.” Mugman muttered, the ice in his voice easily matching the frigid temperature around him. Cuphead didn’t move or respond, Elder sat back, sibling fights were one thing he knew no one got in the way of on pain of death.

               “I said not to, and you didn’t listen. I told you so, and you ignored me, and now both our souls are on the table.” Frankly Elder didn’t think he needed to say anything else, with how effectively Mugman was scolding his sibling he had no need to. Elder swore Mugman had the exact same tone Elder’s mother had when she was so disappointed in him she had no energy to yell or scream, or violently sew up a noose she’d never use but keep out in the open anyway. Cuphead seemed to be curling in on himself more and more, a pained grimace on his face.

               “Well, actually,” Elder stepped in, no one deserved the mom voice, especially not one so bitterly disappointed, sibling fight be damned. “You said no, which means technically, your soul isn’t up for grabs Mugman. Devil must have skimmed that part. Cuphead has no say in what happens with your soul after all. So you could just cancel the finding spell and relax.” Elder told them.

               Cuphead had snapped up ramrod straight, a hopeful expression taking over the pained one. Mugman looked thoughtful for a few seconds, then a few seconds more, then he spoke before Cuphead could open his mouth.

               “Elder, I couldn’t do that. I was already prepared to go out and help. Besides, the last time I let him wander off ahead, I had to ask Death to help me find him. I don’t fancy doing that again.” Elder nodded, accepting the response, but Cuphead looked, almost afraid.

               “What?! Mugs, no! If you wanna help just give me the locations and let me take care of it from there! You aren’t built to-“ The look on Mugman’s face was so impressively terrifying Cuphead froze mid sentence. Well that and the fact that Mugman had literally frozen his brother in a thin sheet of ice.

               “Cuphead. I said I’m going. Now start moving brother, the spell’s done and we have places to be!” How Mugman’s entire tone and stance shifted from so threatening that even Inkwell paused, to giddy and raring to go, Elder would never know. Despite the half hearted protests, or rather, plowing through them, Mugman snatched up his brother’s hand, de-iced him, and they were heading for the door. Elder let out a quiet sniffle of pride, kids grew up so fast. As soon as the two had left he spoke again.

               “I was also correct in Mugman being the one to get them out of trouble, pay up.” An indignant roll sent his old wooden sword crashing to the ground.

               “Just because you thought that Cuphead wouldn’t be _that_ impulsive doesn’t get you out of it. I told you so, now pay up you patch of dirt.” Another angry rumble answered, then, a minute later, three bottles of Whiskey straight from the best brewery in Inkwell rolled in through the open back door.

\---0---0---0---

               The closest to them was on the isle connected to the first one they had been on yesterday. They could see the top of some of the carnival rides from where they were. Cuphead still looked ready to protest but couldn’t seem to get the nerve. He was well aware his brother was simply not built as tough as he was, but he was even more aware of how Mugman had always followed him. So he quietly accepted his brother’s presence, but made a vow to keep any debtor away from his sibling. Clearly, he forgot that the two shouldn’t ever make vows. He was about to re-learn a thing.

\---0---0---0---

               The first contract location was near the river and was the deadest garden the two had ever seen.  The air was stale and stagnant and, despite the sun shining merrily down, cold. The grass was a wilted green color, not quite brown nor sparse, but not the vivid green of life. The dirt itself was a deep brown, almost black. The brothers couldn’t see any actual growth in the garden, it looked like everything was stagnant instead. If the brothers weren’t sure their first target was in that field, they’d walk the other way as quickly as their legs could carry them. As it was, Cuphead tightened the belt around his waist, Mugman adjusted his cap, and the two opened the fence gate. They’d barely taken three steps in when a hand darted out of the ground and latched onto Cuphead’s leg. Cuphead let out the highest pitched scream Mugman or the hand had ever heard.

               “What the hell was that?! Did Weepy stub his toe again?!” A thickly accented voice asked with an incredulous note. The dirt around the hand started laughing. It _stopped_ laughing when an embarrassed and angry Cuphead grabbed its’ arm and yanked half a man out of the dirt. He had thick, painful looking sprouts erupting out of his skull where hair would be. His heavy and thick frame was nothing to Cuphead's strength, but at the sight of the sprouts Cuphead let go and the man flailed back, nearly knocking into Mugman. Mugman caught himself on the nearby fence post, his, and his brother’s eyes, never left the painful looking skull. The man let out an indignant and pained shout and flailed, a moment later, he violently threw up. Cuphead dove back, moving further back from Mugman. A hail of wet dirt flew out of the man’s mouth, and didn’t stop for a full minute. Mugman had a look of horror on his face and started to move forward only for the voice that had asked the question to burst out of the ground near his feet.

               “Aw, dammit, Moe just let it out, don’t try to stop like you did last time.” The newcomer carefully pat the sprout headed man on the back and the man let out a sob in return. Cuphead and Mugman said nothing, that is, until the new arrival properly looked at Cuphead. Two cloudy green eyes squinted hard at the red hatted brother, as if trying to focus on him but unable to. 

               “You there, what are you doin’ on our property! This is the Root Pack’s garden and unless you offering help, get the hell out.” The man stood to his full height, easily towering over Cuphead by a full two feet. Cuphead gave the man a wide, smug grin, and Mugman felt his danger- radar kick into high gear.

               “Well funny enough, we are trying to get the hell out of here. More specifically, a certain contract from hell you got on your hands.” Cuphead said, evidently deciding the best way to start the party was to instigate a brawl. The two siblings, one still unnoticed, watched the two cease all motion, not even a breath or twitch. Then, the tall man let out the angriest snarl the brothers had ever heard.

               “You’re one of that sleazeball’s lackeys?! First that jackass lies to us, ruins our garden and leaves us like this, and now he wants to kick us while we're down? Well after I send you back down, you can tell that furball that Psycarrot said he can rot in his own turf for all we care! He ain’t getting this thing any more than _you are_.” And with that, Psycarrot sank back into the ground and a fully recovered Moe lunged at Cuphead.

               Now, strength for days was great to have, it could make the person quite devastating to fight. _However_ if that person only had rudimentary knowledge of fighting, and had, in fact, been putting off fighting for fear of breaking their sibling, a simple lunge could do quite a bit of damage. Moe smashed into Cuphead, grabbed him by the arm, and flung him over towards a quiet man neither sibling had seen. The dirt covered rotund man was openly sobbing, his skin peeling and sloughing off his body in chunks. Where the chunks hit, the ground sizzled and bubbled. So it was understandable that Cuphead panicked once he righted his senses and saw his destination being the hissing area around the man. Just before he crash landed in, he froze in mid air. A light breeze had settled over him and he whipped his head around to where his brother was. Mugman had one arm extended out, easily casting a wing spell and keeping his sibling out of the filthy mud, blood, and acid slurry.

               Cuphead quickly slid along the air away from the mix, and away from the rather surprised looking sobbing man. Moe, who had also just noticed the quiet caster, grunted and turned to the new target.  Mugman looked up at the man, one hand still out to support the wing spell, and shakily waved his other hand, giving a quiet greeting. Moe, seeing the similarities between Mugman and Cuphead, did not return the greeting. Instead, he snapped his arm out to grab the blue hatted one.

               Let it be known that while porcelain dolls are normally a rather light collectable, porcelain that is full of soul liquid and intricate gears, is not. Add on top of that strength for days, and the result was Moe being slammed into the ground hard enough to leave a clear image of the surprised expression on his face in the dirt, visible only because he hit hard enough to bounce. He didn’t even have time to let out a sound of surprise, but the weeping one did start weeping harder, though he didn’t move to go check on his friend.

               Mugman quickly moved further into the field, away from Moe who was making rather distressing groaning sound. Cuphead quickly stood up, grabbed Moe’s collar and demanded the contract. As an answer, Moe let out a wet hiccup, and Psycarrot rose from the ground directly behind Mugman. A third eye was clearly open on his forehead, his hands clutched his skull tightly and his teeth were grit in agony.  Mugman slid in the dirt, desperately trying to backpedal away but a vine slithering out of the dirt wrapped around his ankle and sent him into the ground then up into the air. It slammed his back into the dirt once and then hefted him higher into the air. Mugman let out a surprised noise, but the more pertinent sound was the sharp crack from his back and his jaw snapping off. The vine loosened and Psycarrot let out a startled, ugly laugh. Cuphead dropped Moe and started to head over to get to his brother only for Moe to yank him back by the belt. Vines tore up out of the ground around him and wrapped up his lower half entirely, pulling at his arms but unable to do more than slow him down.

               “You ain’t even human! You two are just a couple of mantle decorations. Oh wow, boy I think the last time I saw your kind, it was wearing a lot more lace.” Psycarrot laughed as he spoke, it was not a nice laugh. He leaned closer to Mugman, the look in his eyes akin to a cat staring down soon to be dead prey.

               “Broke pretty easy too, all I had to do was-“ Before he could finish, Mugman’s hand lashed out and smacked him clear across the face. Psycarrot flailed and staggered back, holding his jaw in surprise. In the next second Mugman tumbled back to the ground, fire tearing through the thin part holding his ankle captive. Another crack sounded from his back when he landed but he just reached for his jaw, not even pausing to get the pieces of burnt vine off of himself.

               “You,” Mugman started as soon as his jaw was in place, anger clear in his voice, “are rude. First, we didn’t even tell you why we wanted your contract but you attacked anyway! Second, we were human, same as you, so don’t act like you’re any better. You are rude!” Light flared up around Mugman, the porcelain on his back repairing itself. A rune flashed a moment after and in a split second all the dirt on him was gone. Though, a purplish blue stain lingered on his back, right over the cracked area.

               “You smacked me in the face!” Psycarrot replied, very clearly he hadn’t expected the hit, and if Cuphead wasn’t tearing off the coffin of vines around his legs and too scared to feel anything else, he’d be amused.

               “Yes well if I have to feel pain in my jaw _so do you”_ Mugman snapped back with a scolding glare on his face. Psycarrot stared at him for a moment longer, then, his third eye closed. Moe could be heard violently heaving up what sounded like an entire fifty gallon drum of fertilizer, and the weeping one sniffled loudly.

               “How… okay doll, I’m willing to be nice. Why are a couple of memento’s doing the Devil’s dirty work?” Psycarrot finally said after a minute. Cuphead made an angry noise and started stomping over. His anger gave way to surprise however, when he found himself moving, but not actually going anywhere. Mugman sharply glanced at Cuphead, then turned all his attention to Psycarrot. He stood up, brushing the dirt off of his knees.

               “Well we made a mistake ourselves, turns out, being good at gambling in the Devil’s casino makes you a target for him. It’s either the souls of the runaway debtors, or ours. That was the deal he gave us. It’s not that nice a deal, but I don’t think he gave you a nice one either.” Mugman pointedly looked at the sobbing one. Psycarrot let out an angry barking laugh before groaning, clutching his head in agony.

               “We messed up, we-“ Moe had to pause to spit out a chunk of dirt, then continued “we’re mages, we wanted to make the grandest garden but we put-“ He heaved and couldn’t keep talking, so Psycarrot took over, though he spoke through grit teeth.

               “Turns out, we forgot all about magic backlash. We put too much into this here land and it came back and bit us. I was near blinded and found this thing growing in my skull. Weepy over there had his skin start peeling, turns out, his blood is acidic now. He can’t move either, his bones broke so bad the last time he tried we almost couldn’t fix them. Moe started growing potatoes out of his head. Nothing we did cured it, and when we tried to leave this place, we about died. We’re rooted here much as the stuff we grew. So, one night, that jackass with horns comes strolling by, says he heard our misery and he wanted to help. We were desperate, _so damn desperate_ , and here we are. He put our pain into the garden and it’s stuck between dying and growing.” Weepy let out a wail, and Moe coughed loudly. Cuphead gave his brother a dirty and scared look, if the devil could leave people like this, he didn't want to think about what devil would do to him and his brother, they didn't have time to listen to a sob story. Mugman started tapping his nose with his index finger in thought but pointedly didn’t free his brothe. Finally, he snapped his fingers together.

               “Well I have an idea! You see, I’m quite good at runes, and I’m not very much interested in watching you fling my brother or me around. So, why don’t I drain the excess magic you have here.” Mugman said in such a confident way that the trio just stared at him in blank confusion until an intricate and vivid violet rune started carving itself into the ground.

               “As long as my soul is fine, that rune won’t vanish.” Mugman told them, he also released his sibling, not able to multi-task his spell casting like Elder yet. Rune work, luckily enough, didn’t require much after it was carved though, so as soon as it had finished etching itself he started on the healing process. He had been able to practice healing with all the animals and plants often caught in his brother’s crossfire. His brother had started scrutinizing his back and would periodically glare at Psycarrot when he found leftover marks. Within a few minutes, he had Weepy more or less patched up and Psycarrot’s headache all but gone, Moe lost the sick feeling. Everything else, they found out, would have to settle on its own. Mugman wasn’t _that_ confident in his skills. The rune in the center of the garden had already shown effectiveness as well. The air was becoming far less oppressive, and a soft breeze was making the grass sway.

               “I can’t do more than this, but-“ Cuphead didn’t even have time to move away from Mugman’s back before all three magic inclined gardeners were hugging the two with all their strength. A soul contract was shoved into Cuphead’s hands by an ecstatic Psycarrot, all Cuphead could do is blink in response.

               “This is great! Ya did so much more than that Devil ever could!” Psycarrot cried out, his voice nothing but pure relief.

               “If what you say is true, if you really need to keep your soul to keep that thing up, then take the contract. It’s probably better off in your hands anyway. Neither of you doll’s strike me as the sort to abuse it.” He continued, and his two fellow gardeners nodded. Weepy sniffled loudly and Cuphead was made distinctly aware of how close the snot covered nose was to his hair. Instead of reacting how he wanted to, he merely leaned a bit more into his sibling’s back, away from the snot. Mugman cheerily thanked the three and pulled out the list after taking a minute to appreciate a hug from a softer human and not his sibling or his still near rock solid creator/father.

               “That your hitlist? Let me see it, I might be able to help you find others.” Psycarrot leaned over Mugman’s shoulder and the other two leaned closer as well.

               “Oh I know that carnation! That’s the other gardener here on this isle! He’s one mean, angry fella. Haven’t seen him in a while though, he used to come around and shout advice at us. It was the darndest thing, was always helpful stuff but he said it in such a way we thought he was just insulting us at first.” Moe said, he then hugged Mugman _again_ when he didn’t feel the need to throw up at all.

               “Oh! I, uh, I know that one too! That’s Hilda Berg. You, ah…you see that weird building up across the way? That’s where she…uh… lives.” Weepy finally spoke up, and though he stumbled here or there, it was clear the reason wasn’t pain.

               “You’ll find a few of those on the next isle over, but for now, there’s a path on this island, leads through the woods to the north, you go through there, you’ll get to a little path that’ll lead you right around, no need to go the painful way, go east from there and you’ll run into Cagney. Just go straight through the forest to get to Hilda.” Psycarrot, who couldn’t clearly read it as well as his fellow gardeners, was still clearly thankful he could read it at _all_ without having to open his third eye. Some small part of Psycarrot’s mind thought he shouldn’t have handed his and his friends contract over so easily, but the pain was going away. Years upon years of agony just ebbing off his body made it rather difficult to worry too much about what giving his friends very life force to two children. One of which was _still_ giving him dirty looks, though they were a bit less in intensity.

               The two thanked the trio, one more enthusiastically than the other and quickly headed off. Mugman sent a quiet request to Inkwell to see about reviving the garden a tad more. If Inkwell fulfilled that request by causing flowers and tree saplings to sprout wherever Mugman walked, he didn’t have to know. The trio however, would spend the next day fervently debating if Mugman was some deity cursed into a doll’s body, and if Cuphead was his protector.

\---0---0---0---

               “I can’t believe you got the contract.” Cuphead kicked a rock, then watched it skitter past his brother’s feet.

               “I can, I just did what Mr. Devil does, offer them what they want for something in exchange!” Mugman replied, giving his brother a sweet smile. Cuphead was not fooled, nor was he sure how he forgot his sibling was a devious manipulator. Mugman lost his too sweet expression while looking over the soul contract a moment later, a contemplative look spreading over it instead.

               “Though, I do wonder what Mr. Psycarrot meant by abusing the soul contract.” Cuphead, also quick to bounce through emotions, shrugged.

               “Who knows, whatever it is, as long as this thing doesn’t hurt us, I don’t care. Now, he said go through the forest right? We already took on a trio of gardeners, I don’t see how one lone one can be any harder.” Cuphead remarked casually, his expression darkened a moment later.

               “But Mugs, you gotta promise you’ll stay out of this one.” He grabbed his brother’s arm, and Mugman stopped short, snapping his head over to face Cuphead with an incredulous look.

               “What? Are you really trying to sideline me after _I’m_ the reason we got that thing and you didn’t wind up covered in acid?!” Mugman bit out, yanking his arm away and turning to face Cuphead fully. Cuphead easily held his stare, not backing down at all.

               “Yeah that was real nifty, but you also got a cracked back and lost your jaw. If you hadn’t thought fast, you might have wound up shattered entirely! I get that you ain’t a dame but you’re just not built for battle. Besides, that was just one little mistake is all.” Cuphead reached to pat his brother’s shoulder, but Mugman quickly stepped back, glaring at Cuphead.

               “We went over this Cuphead, I know you don’t like repeating things.” Mugman’s voice was dangerously low considering he normally had a lighter tone and had died before hitting puberty. By now, the two had stopped walking, the trees around them swayed and rustled. Cuphead returned his sibling’s glare, his hat brim darkening his face, his eyes shining out clearly, giving an ominous dark red glow.

               “I don’t. I didn’t say you can’t come with, I said you have to stay back. I’m older, so you _have_ to listen to me.” Mugman reared back a few steps, the air around him dropping sharply in temperature, his eyes a sharp, near icy, blue. His mouth opened and his jaw hinge creaked ominously, and he locked up. Taking an unneeded deep breath, his entire demeanor changed to submissive.

               “Fine, I’ll stay back Cuphead. However, “ Cuphead was suddenly quite aware of a growing pressure around him, but before he could question it he was suddenly slammed into the ground. The air around him grew heavy and oppressive. “You’ll have to _make_ _me, **brother.**_ ” Mugman hissed out with such vitrol Cuphead almost felt like his sibling’s enraged presence was heavier than the gravity around him. Mugman turned on his heel and darted off, though the gravity didn’t lessen enough for Cuphead to get his arms under himself properly until he could no longer hear Mugman’s footsteps. Cuphead, fuming at the fact his sibling one upped him, didn’t follow. Instead he stormed off to the left, where he could see a clearing. He was simply too mad to care much for following after Mugman, he also figured that as soon as Mugman cooled down, his sibling would come shuffling back to him. Mugman always did after all, their fights didn’t last long.

               That didn’t make the sting of being shoved into the dirt any better, though. So caught up in his angry thoughts, he didn’t hear the bushes rustling, nor did he see blackened trees slowly appearing more and more around him. He reached the clearing, stomping craters into the ground with each step despite Inkwell’s grumbling that he didn’t care to listen to either. Which was quite the shame really, had he taken a moment to look around, he’d have seen the dead trees, then looked around further and found piles of dead animals, drained of all life and lying rotting on the dirt. He would then have noticed how quiet it was and would have put up his guard. Perhaps he might have noticed how the rustling behind him was no longer from any wind, but a dripping and grotesque half melted human _thing._ He didn’t, and it was all the more a shame. Because as soon as he got close to the stream, a red covered fist darted out of the tree line behind him and close-lined him into a tree clear across the stream.

               Inkwell gave the impression that it was saying ‘ _serves you right you crater stomping brat._ ’ If Cuphead had heard that, he’d have definitely noticed the underlying _‘told you so you little shit´_ in those words as well. As it was, he was too busy trying to figure out how he wound up stuck in a tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intend to stand firm in what I said about not leaving cliff hangers, so expect the next chapter very very soon. I feel like the fight scene I wrote for the other story of mine was better but, as I've rarely written them in general, I'm not complaining. Side note, Cuphead is easily 200+ pounds. His gears are far heavier and his porcelain is thicker. Mugman is still fairly heavy, coming in around 160 pounds, but his porcelain is thinner, and far more likely to crack than Cuphead's. As long as their soul liquid doesn't drain out or isn't ripped out of them however, they can be repaired.
> 
> In case it wasn't clear, The root pack wanted the pain of magic tearing them apart and putting them back together wrong, to end. Devil, likely putting Djinn to shame, did as requested, but shoved it in the garden they loved instead. He actually forgot to pick up their soul contract because he was laughing too much at their suffering.


	5. Why So Blue?

             Cuphead shook his head causing leaves to rain down, obscuring his already hazy vision. He could hear something sliding and thumping against the dirt, but it was faint compared to the rushing stream so he couldn’t quite tell where it came from. Not knowing made his actions more hurried until frustration took over and he just tore the entire branch in front of him off. A face stared back at him, half of it sliding off a malformed skull. The unholy grin splitting the face near in half wasn’t affected, and only stretched wider when the two locked eyes. Cuphead and the thing stared at one another for a handful of seconds, then,

              “Oh I’m terribly sorry, I should have knocked.” Cuphead ducked his head down in a quick motion of apology, and put the branch back where he had torn it off, obscuring the face again. He then turned as best he could, what with his shirt being stuck on a couple of twigs, and let gravity take him down, giving little thought to the tearing and the hysterical laughter from Inkwell. Powerwalking away as soon as he landed was simply what anyone would do upon doing something embarrassing. Not that he got far, the figure dropped down as well and splattered in a mess of thick blue ooze and jutting bones. Cuphead let out a shriek and backpedaled as fast as his suddenly uncoordinated legs could.

               The thing lunged at him and he retaliated, ducking under the creature and punching it in the center of its’ chest. All he got in return is a wet crunch and the ooze suddenly closing around his fist. It felt, almost unreal, the ooze almost seemed to be trying to seep into his porcelain, trying to get inbetween the seams of his joints but finding a barrier, preventing access. The thing laughed at his follow up scream and twisted in ways that would put contortionists to shame so it could once again look him in the eye.

               “Hey doll, name’s Goopy Le Grande. That’s some nice life force you got there, mind sharing?” The things voice sounded wet, like he was trying to speak underwater and somehow succeeding. Cuphead let out a shaky wheeze in response, then he opened the hand stuck inside Goopy, grabbed a rib, and used it to throw Goopy clear across the stream. The sound the ooze around his hand made when letting go made Cuphead wonder if he was going to find out if he could, in fact, throw up. He didn’t have time to think on it though, as a punch flung out at him took more precedence.

               Cuphead ducked just in time, rolling out of reach and diving behind the tree next to him. What he _didn’t_ expect was for the arm to wrap around him and the tree trunk. Now, if anyone asked if it was him that let out the squeaky shout of surprise, he’d say no, most certainly not. Inkwell knew though, Inkwell would always know, and it grew all the more bitter knowing it couldn’t ever properly tell anyone else. The arm wrapping around his torso finally ran out of stretch and a red glove smacked into his neck. His head gave out a worrying creak, and Cuphead panicked even more. His arms burst out of the blue coil and he tore the hand near his face clean off the limb. He wound his arm back and prepared to throw the glove as far as he could but the second arm flew across the stream, grabbed him by the elbow, and heaved him back across the stream.

               “That wasn’t real neighborly of you! Just a sip is all I need doll!” Goopy’s grin never wavered while he spoke, almost as if he didn’t need to move his teeth to speak. Cuphead was really starting to wonder how he was going to take on something that simply reformed its’ limbs and clearly didn’t feel pain. He was bitterly reminded that if Mugman was there, his brother in blue would most likely have a way to give him an edge, or even footing, at the very least. Reminded of the fact that it had been a healthy few minutes since he saw his brother, a cold wash of panic dropped through him. There was no time to fret though, so he needed something to help speed the battle along.

               “Whatever you are pal, you aren’t my neighbor, we aren’t allowed them after an incident Elder won’t tell us about!” Cuphead’s voice shook with false bravado. Goopy reared up to his full height and spread his arms out as if to show off. Cuphead finally noticed that Goopy had no spine, literally. His torso and hips just mashed together in a grotesque blob like manner. His shoulders were clearly visible one moment, and then the next they were warping and melting into the torso, only to reform again a second later. His flesh was a deep blue and black bones would periodically appear in the slurry of whatever rolled underneath the skin.

               “I’m a homunculus, doll. Don’t’cha know your basics? I’m not all put together, but that devil did patch me up some. It’s awful rude of you to not know what I am. But I tell ya what, I’m willing to forgive you, if you hand over that soul of yours.” Goopy’s jaw had fallen into his barely there neck region midway through his speech, blackened teeth dotting his throat until, towards the end, it reformed.

               “Sorry,” Cuphead was so very thankful his body had the ability to go still or he’d be shaking at this point. As soon as he saw his brother again he was going to hug him, it was because of Mugman making him read those boring books with him that he got an idea. “I see so many better versions, I didn’t recognize a poorly made one such as yourself.” He gave Goopy a cheeky grin that didn’t falter, even when Goopy finally lost his smile and tried to lunge at him angrily.  Cuphead quickly side stepped and smacked Goopy clear across the face. Goopy’s head snapped back and his neck stretched out, all the way until the head splashed into the stream. Cuphead quickly darted further away from the body, not liking how it suddenly went oddly still.

               He was right to move, and he was quickly finding that he could _indeed_ get even more terrified. The head began hurriedly sucking down great gulps of water while the body lurched closer towards him. Cuphead debated whether he should be running away, but he finally remembered that on the list was Goopy’s name, and Goopy had mentioned Devil while bragging. He then noted the goo on his ankles. He got out a tiny ‘oh’ before a massive shadow loomed over him and he was dragged down onto the ground. Goopy sloshed violently over him, easily three times his original size and twice as angry.

               “Doll, all I need is one thing before I can make another deal, and that’s a complete soul. I get that and I get a true, stable form. Now don’t move too much, _I’m about to crush you like a walnut_.” Goopy’s now twice as deep voice slurred and Goopy raised his tree trunk thick arms into the air. Cuphead, completely frozen in shock, couldn’t even squirm before the fists were swung down at him. Though, that did prove a bonus, as he was able to see the body above him suddenly stop moving, fists inches from his face.

               “I hate how I can’t just stop following you! You are such a jerk sometimes.” Cuphead near cried at the sound of his brother’s voice. The biting anger in Mugman’s voice however, kept those tears at bay. An angry Mugman was a creatively vicious Mugman. He turned his head to look towards where his brother was. There were splashes of blue goo on his legs and flower petals and leaves were scattered under his hat and on his clothes. His entire body was alight in a multitude of colors and his hands shook at his sides. Goopy let out a confused sound, and Cuphead quickly yanked his feet out of the ooze wrapped around them and rolled out away from the fists. Mugman stomped over to Cuphead, looking ready to let out a tirade of scolding insults, but Cuphead wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tightly gave him pause. Cuphead kept repeating ‘thank you’ and ‘I’m sorry’ over and over until Mugman hugged back. Mugman let out a deep sigh and relaxed into it, he’d never been good at holding onto anger.

               “How?!” Goopy’s confused shout drew the brothers’ attention back to him. Cuphead turned to face him and leaned on his brother’s side, one arm thrown casually over Mugman’s shoulders.

               “What? Did you think I was the only one?” Cuphead gave Goopy an infuriatingly smug grin and Goopy snarled, clearly trying to break out of the invisible hold but unable to do more than twitch. Mugman’s saccharine smile had a particularly sharp edge.

               “Well, mister, I’d love to explain it, but we’re on borrowed time. So I guess we’ll just start tearing you apart until we find your contract!” The fact that Mugman said it with a bubbly lilt to his voice and murder in his eyes led Goopy to believe he only had one course of action.

\---0---0---0---

               “That’s two contracts! We’re on a roll!” Cuphead cheered, holding the two contracts out for both to see. The lack of response from his brother made him frown and turn. The displeased frown curling Mugman’s lips downwards caused him to let out an awkward laugh and hastily stuff the contracts into his shirt. He slowly stopped walking and his sibling followed suit, Mugman arched one blue eyebrow up and Cuphead took it as his chance.

               “Mugs, look. I didn’t say what I meant right. I didn’t mean to say you should just sit on the sidelines. I meant, I just wanted you to stay out of the direct line of fire. I’m grateful for your help and need it, but I need to know you aren’t gonna get caught up in the thick of it. You know I’m not good at explaining things.” Cuphead gave his brother a pleading pout, hopeful that it was enough to soothe his sibling. The exasperated but fond smile he got in response told him all was forgiven, and he scooped his sibling up in another hug. Mugman laughed and returned the hug gleefully.

               “But uh, brother? What happened to your legs, and why are you covered in leaves?” Cuphead glanced pointedly down at the blue ooze that Mugman had yet to get off and used one hand to pick a couple leaves from Mugman’s collar. He started walking again, all while picking leaves out of his brothers shirt, not caring at all about the weight supported by one arm. Mugman let out an awkward laugh and scratched his nose timidly. His cheeks and the bridge of his nose took on a bluer tinge of embarrassment.

               “Well…”

\---0---0---0---

               _Mugman angrily stormed through the forest, darting around branches and muttering vicious ideas of what he’d do to his brother when he inevitably went back. A solid few minutes in, he stopped and stared at the massive trunk of a tree. He huffed out an annoyed breath and let his forehead drop down to touch the trunk, his hat shifting upwards and his eyes closing. While his thoughts cleared up, he caught the tiniest shuffling sound off to his left. Curiosity took over and he opened his eyes to look at what the noise was. It was a strange, tiny blue blob with a face, almost like a sentient blueberry. It gave him a terrifying grin._

_“Hey doll.” It said in a comically deep voice. Mugman just went blank, his face went blank, his mind went blank, and he punted the thing clear across the tree line. It splat against his legs and flew through the air, turning into a blue smear on the trunk of a tree. He numbly stared at the smear for a few seconds, then he jolted and his hand flew up to his chest in fright._

_“Good gosh, what was that?!” He said, his voice full of shock and a bit of disgust. Then he heard a scream in the distance, and based on the pitch and the loud crash that followed quickly after, he knew it was his brother. Throwing his curiosity to the wind, he dashed back the way he came, and towards the sounds, letting Inkwell guide him and ignoring the leaves and twigs smacking into him and hitching a ride._

\---0---0---0---

               “I had a little run in with something, heard you shouting, and came running back.” Mugman said a tad too firmly. Cuphead arched a brow and let Mugman drop back down, playful disbelief clear in his eyes. Mugman let out a cough that wasn’t needed and strode quickly ahead of his brother. The tracker idly  guiding him to the observatory just barely peeking out above the tree line.

               “Anyway what’s important is you aren’t dead and we have two contracts in quick time too! So let’s keep up the pace and get the next one!” Cuphead rolled his eyes but readily agreed and let his sibling lead the way out of the forest, and up some stairs to the highest point on the island.

\---0---0---0---

               Back in a certain clearing, a blue ice sculpture watched a bird land on his nose. The tiny thing chirped at him, and then a hellstorm of feathers erupted from the sky and descended on him. If a tree falls in the forest but no one is around to hear it, it still falls. As it turns out, if a blue ice sculpture is pecked mercilessly by thousands upon thousands of vindictive birds, but no one is around to see it, it’s still funny in a terrifying way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot shorter than the last ones, but I didn't want to drag the chapter just to pad it. So what is Goopy's fate? He was a homunculus created by a newbie sorcerer. His form was highly unstable, but fearing for his life, Goopy fled before any repairs or destruction could be done to him. Due to his incomplete soul, his deal only net him a half completed form. Devil had to bail away from his enraged flailing and dropped the soul contract while fleeing. As a side note, I do have a Tumblr, but until I get it up and going, I'd rather hold off on linking it.


	6. What goes up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why Hilda, it's wonderful to see you! Oh? yeah those cartoon physics are such a pain!

Approaching the Observatory proved a tad more difficult than anticipated. There was no bridge leading to it, thus, they’d have to get creative if they wanted to get to where Hilda Berg was supposed to be. While Cuphead squinted out to the other side, Mugman noticed a man with goggles waving their way, beckoning them over to him. The two did so, and if Cuphead eyed the shins of the stranger, no one had to know he was seeing how clear a path he had for max shin kick damage. Mugman did, Mugman said nothing, Mugman was no snitch.

               “Heya fella’s! I see you’re trying to take a gander at the observatory! You trying to learn how to fly?” The man with no less than ten canteens strapped to his body asked. If experience with Elder told them anything, it was that half of those contained hard liquor.

               “Oh gosh no,” Mugman said, “We’re just trying to find Hilda Berg.” The two brother’s watched the man let out a snort and scoff at them.

               “You better change that no to a yes if you want to see Ms. Hilda Berg. She’s the best ace in the sky and it ain’t likely that she’ll listen to anyone that don’t impress her. You can find a couple planes under that awning next to the cliff. She graciously left em for anyone to use and learn with. Though, why they’re equipped with machine guns is anyone’s guess.” The man, the two mentally dubbed Canteen Pilot in their heads, told them. Cuphead turned star filled eyes to his brother.

               “Mugs, Mugs, we can fly!” He spoke, excitement plain as day in his…well his everything. His feet did a light tapping dance and he started edging closer to the awning. Mugman looked at his brother like Cuphead had suddenly spoken in another language.

               “Cuphead, learning how to fly takes months at the very least, we don’t have that time at all.” He told his red hatted brother, reminding Cuphead that they only had thirty-eight hours left. Cuphead scoffed at Mugman and turned to walk over to one of his biggest dreams.

               “Woah there ya little tyke, you can’t just hop in and go!” Canteen pilot called out to him. Cuphead deflated and groaned, sending the man a disappointed pout. Canteen pilot paused for a moment, looked around them in a manner that had Mugman taking a step back, and pulled out blue paper rolled up from neither brother wanted to know where.

               “I tell you what, you read these things and study them real hard, and I’ll give you the keys to the red one and the blue one.” Cuphead squealed and hefted the man into the air, much to his surprise. Mugman sent him a judgmental glare, but didn’t do much else, clearly blaming him for whatever mischief his brother would get into. He and his brother huddled over the blueprint, taking in as much knowledge as they could as quickly as they could. After a good ten minutes, and answering a handful of questions, Canteen pilot gave them the keys and wished them luck.

               Cuphead quickly scampered off and immediately starting looking at the bright cherry red plane parked next to a blue one. He named the parts out loud, partly to reassure Mugman, who had the expression of a person going to their own funeral, and partly to remind himself.

               “Mugs, we’re gonna fly!” He told Mugman, and Mugman gave a weak smile back.

               “I get the feeling we’ll be falling more than flying but sure.” Mugman replied as he hopped into the pilot’s seat of the blue plane and started it up. He nervously watched the propeller in front pick up speed until the air under the awning had grown dusty. With all the dust in the air, Mugman found it rather difficult to see, and he leaned back a bit to once more tell his sibling he wasn’t sure what they were doing was a good idea. Of course that was the exact moment his foot found the throttle and his plane lurched forward. Cuphead, who had taken a seat in his own plane watched with wide eyes as his brothers plane shot out of the awning, and off the cliff. He could faintly hear screaming over the roar of the engines. A moment later, a blue blur shot towards the sky, screaming still clearly audible.

               After laughing so hard his body rattled like a china cabinet in an earthquake, he pressed down on the throttle and went to join his brother in the sky. If he’d had actual eyes, they’d have been watering and contemplating mutiny, but he didn’t. So instead, when a bug smacked into his face, it just went right into the socket. There was screaming from the red plane that joined the screaming from the blue one.

               It took a little bit for the brothers to find each other in the sky, what with one flailing and desperately trying to dig bug guts out of his eye and the other shrieking about how whatever possessed his plane to be a jerk needed a new hobby. But after much flailing and distant uproarious laughter from Inkwell so hard the isles shook, they finally managed to fly side by side. Cuphead had found a pair of goggles in his cockpit and used them to see without fear of bugs. Apparently his brother had found goggles too, though that didn’t stop Mugman from looking two seconds away from fainting. Cuphead took a moment to laugh at his brothers misery, and got a bug in the mouth for it. If Mugman was less focused on flying, he’d return the favor. But he was, so instead a small part of him pointed and laughed internally. The rest of him tried to keep his plane steady and from knocking into his brothers. Humpty dumpty be damned, a fall from this height at this speed and no amount of magic would be able to put him or his brother back together.

               “See Mugs!” Cuphead called out above the wind, one hand blocking his mouth from any more unfortunate visitors. “We didn’t die immediately!” Instead of his brother answering him, it was a cloud shaped like a bull, that then turned into a woman whose very skin glittered like thousands of stars. She was laughing hysterically and threw her lanky pinkish peach arms across each bothers shoulder, though no weight was added. She opened one eye after managing to regain her composure, looked at Mugman, and cracked up again. Strangely enough, well, more strange than a cloudy star woman with no clear method of staying afloat keeping up with two planes, despite clearly being their target, she looked far more happy than the other debtors they’d run into.

               “Oh man, it’s been so long since a couple of kids decided to fly!” She told them after regaining her breathing, her voice quite easy to hear despite the wind. Cuphead noticed how his plane was now steering itself into a gentle bank, as well as his brothers.

               “Uh, excuse me? Are you-“ She clapped her hand on Mugman’s back, interrupting him and giving the two a wide smile.

               “I’m the best pilot in the skies, Hilda Berg! Nice to meet ya, baby birds! What brings you two into these skies of mine?” She made sure to look at the both of them while she spoke. Cuphead was the one who answered.

               “We’re here because flying is neat!” He told her, a broad grin matching hers on his face. Mugman shot him a confused look, then grew far, far more interested in watching the way she was directing the planes.

               “Well boys, it’s awful great up here in the sky. You see a whole bunch of things while up here. For instance, look down there, that’s the Ferris wheel! That huge garden of flowers back over on the first isle, that’s where a flower fella lives. And in front of you, you’ll see a mountain.” Her tone dropped into a sinister jeering rumble at the last sentence, and Mugman answered with a tiny ‘oh.’

               “I also happened to catch you brats causing a rumble over by those other gardeners and with these peepers of mine it wasn’t hard to see those soul contracts you got. Sorry boy’s, I’m far too happy with what my deal gave me” With that, she let go of the planes and they shot off directly at the mountain. Mugman and Cuphead looked at one another, and then  at the mountain, and then back at Hilda Berg, who had somehow obtained her own dark red plane and was pulling up above them.

               “Cup! How much do you think Inkwell loves us?!” Mugman asked as the planes zipped toward the mountain, the controls refusing to respond.

               “We’re about to find out!” Cuphead replied while trying to peel the sparkly bits of stardust off his planes joystick. Moments before their planes collided, to the shock of everyone who happened to be facing the mountain at that time, the entire top of the mountain bent. That was the only way to describe an entire chunk of land comically bending into a U-shape and allowing their planes to safely fly through the area it once occupied. As soon as their planes passed, the mountain regained its regular shape, one lone mountain goat flying off into the distance, poor sucker being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They heard Hilda Berg let out a confused shriek behind them and finally, the stardust on their planes faded and the two gained control.

               Cuphead and Mugman took one look at Hilda’s shocked face and stuck their tongues out at her, twin grins of promised retribution twisting their smooth faces. Mugman decided to see what would happen if he froze the air around her, and Cuphead remembered Canteen pilot mentioning something about machine guns. Her plane lurched in the air as the propeller guiding her plane suddenly locked up. A hail of gunfire tore through one of the plane’s wings as the brightly colored duo shot past the darker one.

               “Hey this thing _does_ have bullets!” Cuphead shouted to his brother gleefully. Hilda Berg let out a screech of anger and burst into a cloud of stardust. She reformed behind them and reached for their plane controls. Mugman gave her a cheeky grin, and lighting tore out of the sky, crashing into her and lighting her up so brightly it put the one fireworks show they’d ever been to, to shame.  After that, a blue shimmer spread along both planes, and though putting a barrier up meant he couldn’t cast anything else, it was well worth it. Besides, Mugman thought, his brother so adored using guns. Hilda Berg violently jerked around in the sky, curling in on herself while the lightning branched out along her body.

               As she regained her bearings and called for back-up, the observatory far below opened its doors and numerous tiny planes shot out. The brothers reacted accordingly, Mugman going to take care of the tiny planes, and Cuphead getting his plane to face Hilda Berg, and opened fire. She let out a pained shriek when the bullets found her left arm. One stray bullet hit her in the cheek, leaving a streak of blood red dust to pour out of it and the wound on her arm. She grew a vicious grin, and dove into a cloud. Confused, Cuphead decided to pull away from it, and it was only the fact that he had banked sharply that he dodged the massive horns and bull head that almost seemed to appear in the sky next to him. He kept the plane in the turn and it banked into a corkscrew spin. The bull behind him picked up her pace and gave chase. Clearly deciding to go after the one that actually shot her rather than the one handling the tiny planes below.

               “You brat! I’m going to knock you off clear out of the sky!” She sneered at him. He gave her a mock concerned frown.

               “But Hilda Berg, surely you don’t feel threatened by a couple of baby birds!” He told her, adopting the exact tone Mugman had used on him once before. It had the same effect on her as it had on him. She glowered at him and snapped her head out once more, trying to ram him out of the sky.

               “You won’t get far, it’s been foretold in the stars!” She mocked. Cuphead answered by pulling a stunt he had no idea how he did, but it worked and he opened fire directly at her face, pulling up at the last moment while she screamed. He watched her vanish into another puffy white cloud and took the chance to look at how his brother was doing.

               Mugman’s blue plane darted through the hail of large bullets the tiny planes were shooting out at him. Easily banking and twisting and gliding past the bullets. Cuphead suspected his brother was using the barest hint of wind magic, as much as he could while maintaining the barriers over the planes. Tiny planes fell in pieces under his brothers sharp shooting and Cuphead let out a laugh at the vindictive grin he saw on his siblings face. His laughter cut off abruptly when the cloud Hilda had ducked into twisted and warped into the shape of two women.

               “What kinda deal do you gotta make to get shape shifting star powers!?” Cuphead asked indignantly.

               “One where you want to be able to fly in the sky forever and never get lost!” She responded, both halves answering at the same time. The two sisters then said something else, and to Cuphead’s great confusion, an orb appeared in the sky. He had no time to even think before a bright beam shot out of the orb and ripped into the edge of his right wing. His plane shuddered and leaned towards the left, but held steady. The blue barrier extended out and reformed in the space of the missing pieces, stabilizing the plane. He returned fire at them and being too large to move quickly, the bullets ripped into the throat and shoulder of one of the twins.

               Another spinning flaming ball of doom, as he quickly dubbed it, popped into existence in front of him. This time, he was ready, and yanked into a sharp spin, narrowly avoiding the large bullets of light. The two sisters dissolved into the clouds below and he braced for whatever came next. Without looking, he strained his hearing to pick up his brother’s condition below. There appeared to be less gunfire but that seemed to be across the board. Clearly, his sibling was almost done clearing out the baby planes.

               Whatever he had been ready for, it wasn’t for a massive metallic moon with a huge face to curl up and out of the clouds before him. He was quite glad he wasn’t like his brother, because if he had been, his jaw would have come clean off. The massive face that made up the inner curve of the crescent moon had a cruel grin and upon opening fire he found out why. The bullets did little more than leave a trail of scratches along her face. Staring at her as he was, he failed to notice the strange circular aircraft above him letting out a beam of light, but the beam swapping out for something else, and tearing through his left wing sure did. Half of it splintered and disintegrated and it was only because of Mugman’s magic that he kept in the sky. He swerved to avoid the next beams and almost lost his head to a star that flew by.

               “I bet that old geezer will be grateful after I knock you little birds out of the sky!” She shouted at him.

\---0---0---0---

               From far down below, Elder, who had been watching the dogfight with darkened glasses perched on his face, scowled. He stood, went into his shed, and came back out lugging a massive cannon that frankly should not have fit in the tiny building it had been stuffed into. He took aim, which, considering how large the woman was, wasn’t hard. Taking a sip out of his canteen, suspiciously half full of the amber liquid he claimed was medicine, he lit the fuse on the hulking beast of a cannon and sat back.

               “I think the hell not you sorry moon faced meteorological mistake.” He muttered right as the cannon fired, a massive boom shattering the air, and a few trees, and one very unlucky bird. Inkwell below him let out a rumble of agreement. “Be careful Gemini, something will be raining on your parade today.”

\---0---0---0---

               Hilda Berg, who had been about to taunt Cuphead again, didn’t expect a massive cannonball to tear through the tip of her lower half and smash right into her nose, tearing it clean off. For a moment, no one spoke, and then Hilda screamed so loudly it shook the trees below. Cuphead could swear he heard Elder’s demented laughter, but decided there was no way that was possible. Still, he sent a quick thought of thanks to Elder and once more opened fire. His plane responded less to his quick actions, the magic a poor substitute for the original metal, and he winced when a star managed to  clip the tail of his plane. He looked around, desperate for some way to end the fight before his plane gave up. Spotting something below, he got an idea. He got a horrible, terrible, anxiety inducing idea that was sure to have Mugman scolding him for the rest of his life. Hilda decided that out of all the expressions he’d given her, the one that popped onto his face was her least favorite.

               He aimed the plane as best he could, and then punched it. The engine screamed out and the body shuddered violently  but the plane rocketed forward. Very clearly, Hilda didn’t expect him to keep coming at her, but as the plane speared towards her, faster than she was sure it could go, she got nervous. By sheer unknown luck, at the last second, Cuphead spotted a tiny flutter of movement and recognized the soul contract tucked away, or more lodged in her tear duct. He stood up in the plane after using the goggles to force the joystick to keep steering the plane true and pushing his foot down until the gears of the throttle screamed and grinded. A light breeze, different in the zipping winds, latched onto his heels and he leapt out, the plane below didn’t even twitch at the force he used to leap over the plane and onto her face. Using the remains of her nose, he snapped up the contract, gave her a pleasant wave, and tipped over. In the next second, before the red plane exploded into her face, she saw a flash of the blue plane dart by and Cuphead grab ahold of the end of the closest wing.

               The last thing she heard was the blue bird angrily vowing to dig up his brothers body and use it to remodel his new one. The fireball took over everything else and those down below watched the greatest pilot in the sky fall into the ocean below in a heap of twisted metal and flames.

\---0---0---0---

               “See if I don’t do it! Don’t think I don’t know how to find out where they buried our bodies either!” Mugman shouted as he steered his plane as hard as he could away from the falling debris. Cuphead just laughed and shifted until he was sitting on the rim of the pilot seat, his legs to either side of Mugman’s shoulders. Mugman angrily groaned and tossed his hands up in frustration. Taking the controls in hand, he started searching for a place to land, and then it occurred to him that he had no idea _how_ to land. Then he got an idea. He got a horrible, awful, devious idea.

               “Big brother?” Mugman called back in the sweetest voice he had. Cuphead leaned over with the most suspicious look on his face Mugman had seen all day. Mugman bat his lashes at his sibling, and very carefully didn’t draw attention to the fact that he was angling the plane towards what looked like a mausoleum, and the water beyond it.

               “What’s that tone for?” Cuphead questioned. Mugman brightened his sweet smile as much as he could.

               “I don’t know how to land.” Mugman told him. Cuphead gained a dawning look of horror and looked between him, the controls, and the way the plane was passing over Isle one at a steep but steady dive. He frantically looked around for something to either grab ahold of or jump onto, anything but the water landing Mugman clearly was putting the plane into.

               “Mugs you know I hate water!” He cried out, the plane rocking with his motions.

               “I know!” Mugman replied.

               “We don’t even know if we’re watertight!” Cuphead shrieked, and almost started crying when he noticed how the plane was close enough that he’d be able to jump out  and land on the roof of the stone building below. Grabbing his brother by the arm and heaving him up, he jumped and felt the soft breeze wrap around him again. Mugman gave the plane a wave as it continued into the ocean where it shattered on impact. Luckily for them, their bodies, aided by Mugman’s magic, slowed enough that the landing they had was far less violent. Mugman even managed to keep ahold of his jaw. Still, they didn’t land lightly, and before Cuphead could do more than glare at his brother, the roof under them caved in. They let out twin screams and gravity pulled them down.

               The woman with a fish shaped hair pin fishing nearby wondered if the two girls that did all the high flying were okay.

\---0---0---0---

               Cuphead groaned, wishing his soul could just accept that porcelain didn’t feel pain, and heaved himself into a sitting position. Mugman whined, and carefully sat up on the strange pedestal he’d landed on. It was only due to reflex that he’d been able to put up a soft rune and save the both of them from shattering all over the ground below. Sunlight spilled out above them from the hole they’d made and dust slowly settled onto everything.

               “Hey, hey Mugman.” Cuphead tiredly called out and then chuckled and pointed at the hole.

               “New and improved tomb, now with an added sunroof so your loved ones can get a nice tan while they rest for eternity.” He said, and Mugman let out equally tired laughter. Smacking his hat to clean it of the dust falling on it, and him, Mugman examined the urn he’d landed next to. He made an apologetic noise and tried to wipe some dust and debris from its’ lid. As soon as he touched it, a voice called out and he flailed back, falling off the edge onto his brother below. Cuphead groaned and would have glared at Mugman but then he too heard the voice.

               “Please sweet children, please help me!” A pretty female voice cried out from the urn. In response, a bright pink ghost popped out of one of the corners and hissed at the two.

\---0---0---0---

               The girl gleefully pulled up a tiny fish and, after removing the hook, tossed it back into the water after petting it a couple times. She let out a small scream when high pitched shrieking suddenly filled the air. She put her hand on her chest, feeling her heartbeat return to a slower pace, and smiled in relief. It was nice to know those swell gals were doing okay.

\---0---0---0---

               It should come to no one’s surprise that mausoleums had a lot of bodies. But what the brothers found odd was that there were so many ghosts not at rest. At least, they found it odd when they could. Otherwise they were frantically trying to get the ghosts to back away from the urn. Somehow, likely due to the soul liquid running through them, they were able to actually hit the pink ghosts. It did exactly nothing to truly help however, there were so many floating out of the corners and through the window that Cuphead was growing overwhelmed and Mugman was growing annoyed. The ghosts were rather rude, and sounded exactly like that one Italian guy in the fancy business suit they’d accidentally bumped into once. Mugman had been fairly certain if he hadn’t been so cute and apologized so readily they’d have been killed. The piece of candy the man gave the two of them was nice at least.

               That was then, and now was now, and now was being loud and snide and rude and Mugman was tired. When Mugman was tired, he was cranky. When he was cranky, he stopped caring about being polite. So, having enough after hearing the ghost with a mustache mock his brother’s torn and ripped clothing, he yanked Cuphead close to him and the urn, and let his magic play roulette.

               As it turned out, the sunroof they put in was unneeded. Mugman’s magic blew the roof clean off and it went soaring off into the distance. The walls tumbled outwards and everything not in Mugman’s immediate vicinity was utterly decimated. Cuphead and the woman who peeked out of the urn looked between him and the devastation with horror. He did not care, he was tired. Finally, after a few quiet moments, mostly to soak in how there wasn’t even dust to settle, the air was pristine, the woman spoke.

               She looked like one of those statues they saw in a book once, regal and strong, but pretty and very kind looking. She gave them thankful smiles and carefully hugged them as best she could. The two, who hadn’t been hugged like she did since their father, sank into her arms. Goodness knew their actual mother hugged like she was trying to test their bone strength. Her hug was surprisingly warm, and the annoyance and exhaustion vanished from the two.  They debated hugging back, but before they could reciprocate she moved back and wiped some dust from their cheeks.

               “Gosh, I don’t know how to thank you boys for saving me! Where are my manners? I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m the legendary Chalice, it’s a nickname given to me by a dear friend, pleased to meet you!” She told them, floating back a bit so she could gracefully sit upright in the air. The two boys introduced themselves, and then asked her what she had been doing to get trapped.

               “I was searching for magic and got trapped by those ghosts. Speaking of magic, that was mighty impressive Mugman. Why I haven’t seen that level of destruction in years! Oh I know! Why don’t I teach you two a few things to help you along.” She offered, and they accepted readily. Any help was appreciated when it meant making things easier. She taught Mugman more and helped him figure out how to multitask two spells at once, and she gave Cuphead plenty of fighting advice. Including how to use the lower intestine to hog tie a truly rude enemy. The brothers called her Auntie Chalice, and she cooed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hilda actually liked her deal outcome so she was far less inclined to hand it over. She might have survived the fall, she might not. What can be said, is she's swimming with the fishes now.


	7. Gardens, ships, and pork.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flower spirit learns not to break the fine china, two boxers learn the true meaning of pain, and King Dice is summarily ignored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Numerous things happening in this beast of a chapter. So let's get started.

              The energy boost Auntie Chalice gave the two did not last if Mugman’s pouty mood was anything to go by. Personally, when alive, Cuphead found his little brother’s pouting face adorable. He used to scrunch his nose up and his eyebrows would dip down. Cuphead used to be able to rub his siblings nose, smoothing the lines, and knock Mugman right out. Now however, he wasn’t too sure it would work. What he did know, was that no matter what, he had to find some place for Mugman and him to rest. If Mugman was pouty, then it was only a matter of time before Cuphead got _cranky_. A cranky Cuphead once glued his father’s shoe laces so he couldn’t untie them.  Then again, a pouty Mugman once made a neighbor cry without even saying anything. The brother’s had kept score on who made their mother more frazzled. Elder had, hilariously enough, taken their game in stride and returned fire with a cranky old man routine.

               But that was then, and now was now, and now, Mugman was clearly tired, and as the older brother, he needed to provide for family and find someplace to snooze for a few hours. There was no way they’d get to Elder’s home fast enough, getting there took an hour and without Mugman’s magic pushing them faster or Inkwell being generous, Cuphead had to improvise. He knew that they had only one or two left on this isle if the root pack were to be believed. A Carnation fella, cranky all the time, was next on their list. He idly wondered how funny it would be to drag a tired Mugman over to the guy and see what a magically charged pout fit would do.

               “Brother.” Mugman suddenly said, his blue eyes sharp and icy.

               “Uh…yeah Mugs?” Cuphead replied, carefully judging if the look was aimed at him.

               “I’m going to go back to that Devil…rip his skull out of his skin and wear it like a hat.” Mugman stated like one would an irrefutable fact. Cuphead desperately wondered if his brother meant it. Of course, two seconds after that Mugman pitched forward and was only barely caught by Cuphead. Before Cuphead had even begun shaking his brother, he heard a tiny snore, and one of Mugman’s hands came up to clutch at Cuphead’s shirt. He’d then had to try and laugh as quietly as he possibly could, while supporting his siblings’ weight.

               Luckily enough for him, they’d been near the Root pack, having been wandering a tad to shake off the adrenaline from Hilda. Moe had spotted them and had ushered Cuphead into the shed where there were a few beds before Cuphead even realized what was going on. Weepy, who had been moving about the garden, near skipping with joy, alerted Psycarrot and the three gardeners got the two tucked in with a promise to wake them up in an hour.

\---0---0---0---

               True to their words, an hour later, Cuphead was carefully nudged by Psycarrot. While Cuphead had woken readily, Mugman had given Psycarrot such a pitiful noise that Psycarrot couldn’t get himself to try and wake the doll up anymore. Cuphead eyed his brother’s form, noted the torn and rough appearance, and decided he’d try and get the next contract without Mugman. It would be a nice surprise for his sibling, he was sure. It was a garden guy after all, he didn’t think a florist was all that scary.

\---0---0---0---

               Cuphead knew he was right the second he had finally found the garden a half hour later and had watched a man with flower petals for hair dance his way through a field, plucking weeds and delicately cooing at flowers with every dip and twist. Honestly, if he really emulated Mugman, who somehow got adults to do things that they, not one minute earlier, said they wouldn’t, he could probably get the contract with no need to punch a gardener. Sure the root pack were gardeners too, and were pretty scary at the beginning, but this was one guy, and they were three. He sucked in an unneeded breath, and strolled through the gate, mindful to not step on any flowers. This guy might not seem cranky right now, but Cuphead figured the more brownie points he earned, the better.

\---0---0---0---

               Brownie points were false, everything was false, life was cruel and that was that. Cuphead hated everything to do with flowers. He also hated how the only reason why he had dodged the initial attack was because he had Mugman for a brother. These two shared that exact same facial twitch, but where Mugman just got devious, Cagney got _mean_.

               “Your garden is worse than the one my old bat neighbor planted near the hobo hangout!” Cuphead snapped while diving behind a tree and narrowly dodging a swing that shattered the tree, just barely missing his head. Cagney reared back as if smacked and staggered back a step.

               “You take that back you sorry excuse for a flower pot! Do you know how many old biddies I’ve beaten in competitions?!” Cagney demanded, his green toned skin flushing an angry darker green.

               “With your skills or your fists?” Cuphead grabbed the outstretched hand and twisted, sending Cagney into the air and smashing back into the ground, flattening a patch of petunias. Cagney wheezed, but it sounded like he was more upset over his flowers than the numerous garden utensils sticking out of his plant like flesh. Cuphead tried to move as quietly as possible over to the next tree, hoping to buy some time to get a breather because if Cagney got one then so did he. Unfortunately, the thorn covered vine that scratched up his leg didn’t agree. Cuphead was slammed hard enough against a tree, that the chips and cracks he’d gained thus far in the fight, grew far worse, and dark red started staining his back.

               “You…You throw like a wimp!” Cuphead shouted, ripping the vine off of himself and wondering if rolling in that patch of tiger lilies could excuse the deep red stains. Of course, he didn’t wonder much else when his arm, the right one, fell clean off as soon as he stood. Cagney let out a hysterical cackle and pointed at him. As Cuphead staggered back into the tree, feeling Inkwell roll -- or that was just him-- he dazedly thought that Mugman would be so upset at the shirt stains. From behind Cagney, he saw someone he hoped he’d never see again. The skeleton in a pitch-black robe silently started closer to him, brushing past a still laughing Cagney. Cuphead winced, closing his eyes and wondering if he could beat death back with his broken off arm, anything to not have to go with the guy. Faintly, as though through water, he thought he heard his brother, which, he thought rather odd, considering he’d left Mugman behind.

\---0---0---0---

               Had Cuphead managed to stay conscious for just a few seconds longer, he’d have seen his brother jump kick death clear across the garden, rip a shovel out of Cagney’s back, and proceed to put all professional baseball players to shame. Cagney, from his frozen position, though not from any magic, stared in slack-jawed horror while the blue flower pot ripped a femur clean off of death and use it as a club when the shovel flat out broke in half. Cagney watched the snapped off part of the shovel go flying and bury itself into the ground a few feet from the carnage. Then he noticed the bright violet magic surrounding the red flower pot and the cracks and chips spidering up the porcelain seal back up to pristine condition. Vaguely, he heard the blue flower shout

               “Have you _lost your mind?!”_ in the most acidic and indignant rage filled voice he’d ever heard in his long life. He swore he heard someone sobbing for mercy, but wasn’t sure who, because there was no way it was _the literal embodiment of death_ crying and pleading for the bellflower to ‘stop, please stop, what is it with your damn family and violence’.

               The exact moment the red flower pot opened his eyes, and the bellflower turned blisteringly devoid-of-mercy eyes on Cagney; Cagney promptly pulled his contract out and wordlessly dropped it to the ground and backed away like one would after dropping a juicy steak as a sacrifice to a very, _very_ angry lion. He thanked his lucky stars that he couldn’t sweat, because if he could, he’d be a river right about that second. The contract did nothing, right as the red flower pot groaned and flopped over, the Bellflower child launched across the field and latched onto his lapels while planting his small feet right on Cagney’s chest. Cagney was easily twice the Bellflower’s height, but with the magnitude of the Bellflower’s glare, he felt twice as small.

               “You _ever_ toss my brother aside like a weed and **I will burn your entire garden and dance on your ashes.** ” Bellflower didn’t shout, didn’t raise his voice at all, and despite sounding like a child, Cagney felt very real fear. Considering the sobbing grim reaper weakly trying to reach their cracked femur, he had no problem believing this sprout _would._

               “Mugman?” At the sound of the red flower pot’s confused but healthy voice, Bellflower did a one eighty on everything. His face went from void of everything sugar and nice, and into one of cute worry. He dropped from Cagney’s lapels and scampered over, once more by-passing the contract. The flower pot was sitting up, limbs clacking and shaking like a leaf.

               “Cuphead! Brother what were you thinking!” Bellflower scolded his apparent sibling. The red flower had a dazed and confused expression, idly patting Bellflower’s face as if unsure it really was his brother. Bellflower coaxed his brother into standing and proceeded to check over for any remaining cracks. Red flower idly pointed at the busted shovel, and helpfully informed Bellflower that it was, indeed, a shovel. Bellflower gave red flower a resigned but fond sigh and nodded, _finally_ noticing the contract and gleefully letting his brother pick it up.

               “Thanks?” Amaryllis said to Cagney, still relying on his brother to carry his weight. Cagney saw his life flash before his eyes.

               “Thank you, Mr. Carnation!” Bellflower waved cheerily to him. His eyes, or the lights that made up his eyes, were still frigid and Cagney started fervently, but silently, begging for Amaryllis to distract Bellflower.

               “How’d you even get here Mugs?” Cagney _knew_ his decision to give the red Amaryllis the flowers name was a good idea. Only someone truly not that bad, tolerable really, would somehow understand his silent plea and distract the vengeful Bellflower.

               “Well a little bit after you left I was woken up by a very nervous Mr. Moe so I came running as fast as I could! Cuphead if you ever try to go ahead of me again, I swear I’ll hide your trinket collection somewhere you’ll _never_ find.” Cagney carefully didn’t move, deciding just this once that his best option for defending his garden was to just not do anything. A small part of him wondered why he had been so frightened by a tiny Bellflower, but the rest of him replayed the exact moment where the shovel snapped in half after colliding with Death’s skull, and the tiny part stared off into the void. Sending only a brief line of understanding that no soul contract was worth losing not only the garden, but the _entire_ garden to Bellflower’s wrath.

               As the two left the garden, he swore he saw the land that so kindly fed his garden sympathetically coax Death into a dirt filled hug. Something about _‘knowing that family’s brand of crazy too, it’s okay, they don’t get better, just avoid them, don’t ever go near my kids though, ever. If Mugman hadn’t gotten you I would have.’_

               A gardening claw fell out of his shoulder, and he let out a shriek he was quite thankful no one was around to hear.

\---0---0---0---

               Ten minutes after leaving the garden of the flowery jerk, Cuphead had regained his bearings. It happened right about the same time Mugman stopped scolding him and plucking at his shirt, still stained heavily with his soul liquid. At the rate they were going, the only white on them would be their skin. Mugman had yet to truly learn how to remove soul liquid stains, even with magic, so their only hope was to find another set of clothing. He vaguely remembered a store being on this Isle but couldn’t remember where. The Root Pack had told him something about the shop being a hop and a skip from their garden, but they were so far away. Cuphead figured he and his brother would just find some clothing on the next Isle.

               The brothers noted with curiosity, a strange and massive die sitting right on the bridge. Something that hadn’t been there before, and thus, piqued their interest. They opened the door and rather catchy jazz filled the air. They peeked in, looked in opposite ways, then looked in the same direction, then heard someone clear their throat, and focused their attention across the room. As soon as they got an eyeful of the Devil’s right-hand man--and boy could the siblings not believe the man across from them had written a song about himself-- they gave him the most disappointed but disgusted expressions they could.  A clear indication that they weren’t partial to the sight of the fella that helped put them in their position. Before King Dice could even react, the door was closed, and the brother shuffled back into the isle, following the magic pull of the closest contract.

\---0---0---0---

               After much backtracking and plenty of confused grumbling. A torn-out tree or three later, the doll children found the last debtor on the Isle. The most insulting part was, parked right next to the boat, was their own. Mugman wound up laughing hysterically for a few minutes, and while Cuphead could do without the near-death experiences—and waking up to his brother threatening the one to actually deal him a killing blow—he figured they’d have a story to tell Elder, at least.

               There were strange sounds of buzzing and cheering coming from the ship, and the brothers hesitated for a minute. Though the hesitation was a good thing, because had they just plowed right into the ship they’d have missed the sudden increase in cheers followed by a window shattering and a man beaten to all hell flying out and crashing into the ground next to them. They glanced down at him and Mugman immediately backed away, his blue tone turning green for a few moments. Cuphead winced and wondered if the broken figure was even alive.

The man’s face was almost entirely caved in, his jaw clearly broken with a piece of bone sticking out of his cheek. There was blood coming out of his mangled ears and both eyes --what little could be seen through the swelling flesh-- were full of red. The rest of him didn’t fare much better. His torso was littered with dents and it seemed as if all of the lowest ribs had liquified if the way the man was contorted said anything about the state of the ribcage. His right leg was bent in three angles it simply should not bend, and his arms, one seemed to be holding its shape only due to the muscles there. Cuphead leaned closer and let out a sympathetic hiss upon realizing the man was indeed still alive. The gurgling breaths signaled it wouldn’t be long though.

Regaining his nausea, need to help over-riding his disgust, Mugman quickly called up a healing rune and the two watched it get to work. Mugman near passed out a couple times during the five minutes it took to fix the guy, Cuphead simply made sure he’d be ready to catch Mugman and watched the ship. He found it rather unnerving that no one came out to check on the boxer, by the look of the gloves and state of dress. The man, about halfway through, had started sobbing and hacking up blood, but ultimately didn’t do much more than lay still and let the magic take care of him. Finally, after one last loud cracking sound and an almost worshipful heaving sob filled thanks, the man was healed fully and curled up into a ball. The rune turned from green to a soothing white, and comforting waves drifted off of it. After another four minutes of crying and weak shaking, the man looked up at them.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, I was gonna die. Those brothers aren’t right. They ‘bout near killed me. Kids, kids you can’t go in there. That thing isn’t a boxing ring, it’s a death trap. They don’t care about sportsmanship in there. Them and their devil powers just ain’t right. Stay away, please, thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He spoke as if he was getting out everything as quickly as possible. His face was twisted into a near animal like desperation. Cuphead helped him up, and the man shook their hands. For a moment Cuphead thought the man was going to kiss his brother from the look of sheer relief on his face. He didn’t though, and just hurried away as fast as he could. The brothers turned to the ship, cheering still pouring out of it and frenzied buzzing now clearly heard through the broken window.

               “Cuphead? Do you think, those debtors have ever come across someone with strength for days?” Mugman had a cool contemplative expression on his face, a ponderous tilt to his head, and a vindictive gleam in his eye.

               “Well gee Mugs, we should find out. Why, it’d be unsportsmanlike to not show those fella’s a good fight.” Cuphead replied, the brim of his hat casting a dark shadow over his narrowed eyes. The boys weren’t too fond of rude people and liked callous rude people even less. Cuphead was fairly certain that his fight with Cagney had upped his reflexes too. The best way to find out, of course, was to go show a pair of boxer’s what a true sucker punch felt like.

\---0---0---0---

               The brothers pushed open the unlocked door leading to the depths of the ship, and a wash of smells made them stagger back. They gave each other confused and disgusted looks, tried to think like doll’s, tune out the scent, and head down. The ship was quite amazing if they ignored the rather gruesome smears of blood and the ill-patched holes in the walls. The center of the ship had been carved out and redone to fit a clear space in the middle, including the stands where what looked like hundreds of spectators sat. The two were quite certain none of those in the stands were human, but couldn’t figure out what they were, and didn’t care to find out. The leathery black skin and bulging eyes was making Mugman look a tad ill again. So he and Cuphead focused on their targets. Those at the tables were only a bit better,but at least they weren’t malformed. Two brothers stood in the center and were clearly riling the crowd up.

               Both had dark tan skin and short black hair, one of them looked like they could have arm wrestled with Elder back when he was muscled for days. He’d have lost within seconds, but at the very least he likely could have amused Elder. He was built like a tank but was easily dwarfed by his far taller brother. The taller one had a thinner, far more agile frame. They had a few bruises littering their torso’s, but what really caught the porcelain brother’s attention was their lower halves. The tall one had brown frog legs sticking out of ill fitting pants. The short one had green frog legs.

               It only took a couple seconds for the frog brothers to notice the scuffed but far cleaner appearance of the other siblings. Before the spectators or brothers could speak, Cuphead, who had adopted a starry eyed awed appearance, spoke first.

               “Gosh little brother, look! Real boxers!” His voice was pitched in such a way that the observers simply couldn’t tell what his age was. Mugman let out appropriate ooh’s and ahh’s while slowly and carefully wandering closer.

               “Gosh big brother, it’s just like that one match we saw before! Oh, do you think they know how to punch?” Mugman asked his brother, his expression so sweet a nearby spectator at a table had to fan her face to hide the coo she let out. Cuphead turned to them and pointed at the gloves on their hands, splattered with blood and tiny tears where it was clear the fabric caught on bone.

               “Gee I bet they do, don’t’cha? A couple of rough lookin’ boxers like yourselves. Why, I bet you pitch a mean toss or two?” The frog legged brothers looked at each other in confusion while Cuphead mimed the standard boxer pose and threw a few punches.

               “Well sure we do, what are a couple of boys doing in our fine establishment?” The tall one asked. He loomed over Mugman but didn’t stop the blue brother from lightly poking the rock-solid muscle under the freckled skin.

               “Why we heard there was a swell place for rough housin’ and I just had to show my little brother. Gosh it’s just his favorite thing to see.” Cuphead told them. Mugman bashfully covered his blue tinged cheeks and the embarrassed smile on his lips. The frog brothers looked at each other and laughed.

               “Oh, oh I know! Big brother, you’ve been practicing a couple of moves that nice fella at the gym showed you, why don’t you show them to the real deal?” Mugman said, childlike innocence near pouring off his frame. It was Cuphead’s turn to look bashful, he scuffed one shoe on the ground and a pair of diners nodded behind him eagerly. The frog brothers looked unsure, and it seemed like the shorter one was about to disagree, probably usher them out, but then a woman who was smoking puffed out a cloud and called out her agreement. Others followed, some wondering what the harm was in showing a couple of kids the ropes, some saying the fight would be entertaining, albeit not in the same way as the previous ones. The frog brothers helplessly looked at one another and shrugged.

               “Sure thing tyke, go ahead. Why, I’ll even let ya hit me. If you’r good enough, we’ll give you and your brother a match.” The shorter one said and beckoned Cuphead into the ring. The taller one ushered Mugman towards a nearby table and motioned for him to stay put. Mugman, sugary sweet smile in place, flashed the two frog brothers an even brighter grin and the two blinked stars out of their eyes. Some small part of the boxer’s thought it would be a tad cruel to box a couple of strange kids but, well, they weren’t exactly shown mercy as youngsters either. It would certainly toughen the blue hatted tadpole up a bit. He looked far too soft to be even remotely scary.

               Cuphead nervously eased forward, bolstered a bit by the cheering crowd buzzing away and raised his hands up how he’d seen boxer’s do it before. The shorter one, Ribby, according to the now clearly visible stitching on the shorts, followed suit, amusement plain on his face. Cuphead danced around a bit, switching which leg was positioned first a few times, then darted in and threw his punch. Ribby cocked his head back and laughed out loud. The punch barely felt like anything to the boxer, used to hard blows as he was.

               “Hey, that was pretty decent for a newbie. You got good form but no power! But a promise is a promise, I’ll box you for real this time. Think of it like a training session, so make sure you dodge.” Ribby told Cuphead. Mugman let out a nervous noise but was shushed and patted on the shoulder by a nearby waiter. The woman who had been cooing at him offered him a glass of water.

               “Don’t worry kid, these two won’t knock your brother around too hard. We’ll get you a couple bandages before you go so you can patch him up.” The waiter told him, and the three at the table nodded, clearly trying to soothe the sweet child. Mugman sent them a less sunny smile, the woman fanning herself didn’t even bother to hide her adoring expression. Croaks, according to the stitching on the gloves, nodded to his brother, taking in the crowd’s words. Ribby nodded back and decided to dial back a tad. A waiter flew down with fly like wings and after someone found a pair of gloves to fit Cuphead, nodded and rang the bell in his hands. As soon as he was out of range, Ribby threw a heavy punch, Cuphead ducked under it and returned with a punch of his own into Ribby’s side. Ribby let out a surprised wheeze and arched a brow.

               “Ey yeah! Like that! You weren’t holdin’ back that first time were ya?” He asked Cuphead who gave him an excited smile. Ribby, in return, gave Cuphead a rather nasty grin. The two exchanged punches, though it seemed like Ribby simply couldn’t land more than glancing blows on Cuphead. This angered Ribby, and he suddenly curled up into a ball and kicked off with his powerful legs, shooting forward like a bullet right at Cuphead. Cuphead quickly dove to the side and panicked. Directly in Ribby’s path was his brother who looked surprised. Luckily, Croaks was fast enough to pick Mugman up and out of the way. The guests at the table were less fortunate, only barely moving out of the direct line of fire before their table was smashed to pieces. Ribby leapt high into the air and out of the roll, landing right next to Croaks. The next second, a desperate spectator tore themselves away from the stands over by the broken window and shouted.

               “That blue one is a mage! He got magic! I watched him fix up the last loser!”

               Mugman felt the grip on him tighten considerably and winced. He was lowered closer to the ground where Ribby’s severely frowning face filled his view.

               “Boy. We don’t like mages over in this place, it ain’t sportsmanlike, y’know?” His tone was threatening, and Mugman gave him the cutest apologetic kicked puppy look either boxer had ever seen.

               “Well gee, I only know the flashy sort of spells and fixing up that fella took a lot out of me. You’d know if I was using any, I swear!” Mugman had a pleading note to his rather shaky voice. Croaks eyed him with a dark look. Two waiters darted into his view and Mugman was yanked to the floor then dragged to a table and tossed into a chair.

               “Boy, we don’t like liars, don’t like ‘em one bit. But you’re right, it wouldn’t be sportsmanlike to beat down a weakling like yourself. So you’re gonna sit there and see a real fight.” Croaks told him, tone rumbling and scolding. Mugman cowered under the suddenly not so friendly looks from those around him and sent a scared look to Cuphead. Cuphead shared the frightened look with one of his own and was about to argue that they’d never been asked if either of them had magic, but a wave of fire spit out by Croaks shut him up and singed his sleeve off. He frantically put out a tiny blaze on his shirt and mourned the true death of the garment. He let out a great sigh and gave Mugman an apologetic smile. He didn’t move, even when the two boxers stormed over to him, clearly ready to give him quite the beat down.

               At the last moment, he dropped low and kicked Ribby in the leg. The leg snapped clean off and blood sprayed the nearest tables. Ribby crashed to the ground, unable to even scream. Cuphead twisted and shot up, latching onto Croaks’ arm, still extended as it was, viciously grinned, and tore the limb clean off.

               “Look’s like we’re having frog’s legs tonight Mugs!” Cuphead shouted over the screaming from Croaks.

               “Oh come on, that wasn’t even my best shot!” Cuphead tossed the arm into the air a couple times, then swung it like a bat and smashed it across Croaks’ ribcage, cracking every bone in the arm and three ribs in the direct line of fire. A green flash under their feet, and their bones and limbs were restored, though not enough to regain any feeling. Mugman’s face had twisted into a malicious and vindictive mockery of a smile. The waiters holding him down felt a bolt of fear go through them and let go, quickly backing up.

               “Dear brother, it’s awful unsportsmanlike to make them suffer like that. You should always try to end it in one punch!” Mugman chided though his expression didn’t change.

               “He burned my shirt!” Cuphead replied, looking completely unapologetic. Mugman’s face darkened further and the air around him dropped severely in temperature. The water in the glasses around him began to freeze as people tried to clear away from the mage.

               “Cuphead, you should finish what you started, maybe one of these fine people will know where we can get new clothes.”

               “They’d be better suited learning how to swim.” With that, Cuphead dodged a wild swing from Croaks, and drove his fist right into Ribby’s midsection. Ribby flew back, crashing through tables and into the stands. The spectators had barely managed to clear the way and were now trying to get out of the ship. One near full force kick later, and Croaks followed behind, this time however, with a clearer path, he went right through the side of the ship, directly under the window that had been shattered earlier. The ship pitched to the side and water flooded into the gaping hole. Ribby was washed back towards Cuphead by a wave of sea water and Cuphead stomped onto Ribby’s arm, forcing his body to stop.

               “If there’s one thing we can agree on, its’ that I don’t like liars either. I’ll be taking that neat contract of yours, shame it didn’t do you any good. Good luck not drowning!” Cuphead pushed Ribby towards one of the waiters that had manhandled his brother then he and Mugman darted for the exit. Mugman paused only to politely thank the woman who had been cooing at him for the water she’d offered him earlier and use his magic to tear a new, far larger hole into the roof of the ship. She dazedly nodded and joined the crowd fleeing the ship.

               The two escaped with time to spare considering no one wanted to go near the brothers. They leapt off the ship just as it began to violently list to the side. Luckily for those who hadn’t gotten out yet, a sandbar below caught the ship and kept it from sinking fully into the depths. Though, the two brothers didn’t worry all that much, those people were quite fine watching the dirty fighters beat their opponents down after all.

               After they left, a team of waiters dragged the two boxers out of the drink. Upon passed around demands for medical supplies, a lone waiter weakly held up a few rolls of bandages, saved from the water.

\---0---0---0---

               As they wandered back past a few places, they ran into the shop. Literally for Cuphead, he’d been focusing so hard on the little marks on the paper listing the debtors, he hadn’t seen it suddenly appear. Upon realizing what it was they’d found, instead of getting mad, Cuphead decided to play it up.

               “Hey, Mugs, we’ve stumbled into the shop.” He teased, and Mugman snorted.

               “Brother, I don’t think this is what the sign meant by ‘walk right in’.” Mugman nudged Cuphead on the shoulder and both watched in surprise when the only other sleeve simply fell off. Without another word, they entered the shop, and ran right into the massive belly of the shopkeeper. For a split second, Cuphead wondered if this had been what Elder looked like before losing most of his muscles for days. The shopkeeper was built quite heavy, and he easily towered over the two, much like pretty much everyone else it seemed. The man didn’t even seem moved by the run in and eyed the two.  Mugman sheepishly apologized and he and Cuphead stepped back. The man, Porkrind, oddly enough, only snorted and softened his face just the slightest bit.

               “You two look like you’ve gone through a ringer or three.” His deep, rough voice rattled the nearby glasses, though he didn’t shout. The brothers stared at him with slight, and genuine, awe. It might have been because of the eye patch, or because despite his massive figure, he didn’t seem threatening at all.

               “Yes sir, we were actually hoping you could tell us where we could find some clothing. Maybe a place to wash off?” Cuphead said politely. Mugman nodded in agreement and then looked at the wares of the shop. They had a few coins from before so they weren’t overly worried. If needed they could just ask Inkwell to give them a couple more. Inkwell was always finding change that had dropped from pockets and had been giving a few of the shinier ones to the brothers. Clearly trying to worm its’ way into Cuphead’s heart and appease Mugman by ensuring Cuphead didn’t do silly things for shiny coins. Porkrind rumbled out a laugh and scrutinized the two before dipping under the front counter and digging around. He came back up a moment later and put two pairs of clothing onto the counter. The brothers had to stand on their tip toes to see the items properly.

               “These should fit you two just fine, but, they have a couple added bonuses. This pair,” Porkrind held up the pastel blue and red sets into the air so the brothers could see them fully. “Has some runes on it. These can withstand a hearty number of scuffles, and as an added bonus, fixes up any scratches you get while you’re puttin’ it to the other. Don’t look all confused boys, word gets around here and a few farmers came in not too long ago talking about you two. It was also mighty hard to miss that high flyin’ you two did.” Porkrind was quickly rising through the ranks of the brothers “people to like”.

               “Now, this set here will give you more defense, but it’s a bit hard to move in. This set here got something real special. It’s got teleportation runes, so you can pop in an out. It only has a few feet of range but if you get up a good run it’ll carry that momentum over.” The brothers quietly debated for a few moments and then pointed at the teleporting ones. It was likely because Mugman liked the idea of being harder to hit, and Cuphead liked the gold and red designs on the shirt he was given. Mugman asked how much and gave him the suspiciously low amount of coins for payment.

Porkrind then let the two wash off in the bathroom he had behind the counter and after some healthy scrubbing and noises of disgust along with ‘how did that even get there?!’ ‘is that from Goopy?’ ‘Cup, don’t panic, it’s moving.’ ‘WHAT?! NO, GET IT OFF!’ and so on; the two were freshly cleaned and dressed in their new blue and silver and red and gold lined clothing. Cuphead’s newly donned pants had to be rolled up once, and he’d needed a belt to fully fit the just a hair too big pants. Mugman had needed to use a shrinking rune on his shorts so he wouldn’t need a belt. They thanked Porkrind quickly, after spotting the clock, and left with happy grins on their faces. Porkrind watched them go with an amused expression, then returned to dusting off shelves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cagney, a humanoid forest spirit, made a deal to defend his garden. The boxer brothers made a deal to gain a move or two that was unbeatable. Devil, who, frankly is worse than Djinn in terms of granting stuff, gave em what they asked for. Honestly, I hope that was all obvious in the story, but just in case, I figured I'd clear things up here. Isle one is complete! yay! To celebrate, I'll be writing up and posting a miscellaneous batch of au stories for Cuphead, maybe a bit of Bendy and the Ink Machine tossed in. It will update more sporadically than this one and the Lady one. But it will get more art than this one. As another note, my tumblr, in case any of you want to chat, is ephemeralmuse.tumblr.com. i have another story on that thing that I've yet to move over here. I also hope ya'll realize how fun it is to figure out what nick names the bosses give to the brothers.


	8. Oh lolli, lolli, lolli lollipop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew visiting nobility would be so violent!

The brothers once more returned to the strange die shaped building. There had been a heated debate between the two as to whether they should just hop into the river and swim across to the other side. Cuphead had promptly pulled older brother status and thus the two were staring at the door. A part of the both of them hoped they wouldn’t have to see that jerk again. With time ticking down, the two had no real time to dally, and so, Cuphead reached up, and turned the handle, letting the door swing open and the jazz pour out. The two immediately spotted a rather unimpressed King Dice, standing next to the door across the way.

They stared at the man in quiet acceptance and, at least in Cuphead’s case, challenge. The boys stared at the manager of the casino, and the manager stared back. Neither said anything while the tune merrily played from a gramophone in the corner. Mugman gave a hesitant wave after deciding enough was enough. Cuphead glared at King Dice, edging his brother closer to the door. So focused on the door that he was, he didn’t expect King Dice to suddenly move and hold out one hand in the universal sign to stop.

“Looks like you boys aren’t cannon fodder like I expected!” King Dice said with a certain flair that made Cuphead instantly dislike him even more. Mugman noted the chalk board behind King Dice with five numbers on it, each with a line through them “Well don’t let me stop you, head on over to the next Isle, plenty more marks for you to lean on there.” And with that, King Dice was gone, it almost seemed like he was content seeing their actual progress rather than dragging on their misery. Whatever the intent, the boys didn’t hesitate to bail as fast as they could from the building.

“Boy that purple jerk sure is lucky he’s not on this list. With the way we’ve been going, I don’t think it’ll be long before we’re busting down that casino door and shoving these things in that scruffy Devil’s face.” Cuphead boasted, clearly trying to give a reason for being so nervous he hadn’t been able to say a thing during the entire encounter. He had no idea what King Dice was capable of, well, besides the new knowledge that there was likely no body under that clothing if the freaky twisty way King Dice moved was anything to go by when he warped away. That was another new piece of information, it seemed like the dark skinned, white haired man had some semblance of space manipulation or shadow manipulation. So, for all he knew, they were always being watched.

Mugman seemed less nervous about it, going about organizing all of the contracts and popping a rune into existence. He figured he’d store the contracts in a safe place before just stuffing them in their shirts bit them on the butt. Cuphead didn’t stop him and instead started wandering over to what looked like the closest debtor. As such, neither sibling noticed their creator on the bench until they recognized the whistling snore. The two let out surprised and confused sounds and trotted over.

“Elder?” Mugman questioned, gently nudging the man’s knee. Elder snorted and shot up ramrod straight, narrowly missing Mugman’s jaw by a few scant inches. After a few quick attempts to wipe drool from his impressive mustache, Elder coughed awkwardly and observed his creations.

“Don’t judge me, I had to high tail it over here as fast as I could.” Elder remarked, eyeing the expression Cuphead was giving him. “Now, alone in that house as I was, I decided to do some digging, see if I couldn’t offer you two a bit of help with this. I know Devil doesn’t play fair so neither should you two. And lo and behold I found something!” Elder cheerfully explained, leaning heavily on his cane. The boys got closer, showing they were giving him their full attention.

“Elder did you know that King Dice wrote an entire song about himself?” Cuphead told Elder.

“That man has impressive confidence then, but it’s misplaced confidence as long as you two listen to me. You know, like you didn’t before.” Elder blatantly looked at Cuphead, he knew who the ringleader of the two was, oh he knew.

“Inkwell has been keeping me somewhat updated with your progress, and I’m so glad you haven’t died yet. Cuphead, you’ve gotten close though, and you want to know why?” Elder questioned, though it was rather clear that it was rhetorical. “When it was just me, it was me with both magic _and_ muscles for days. You two only have one of each. Powerful that may be, it’s significantly _weaker_ than me. You can’t expect to abandon one another and be just fine with these kinds. They made deals with the big man down under after all. You have to use every advantage you have, including those contracts you’ve got stashed away. The more of those you get, the more you two are bolstered. That’s raw soul binding you’ve got there. Goodness, you might even see some affects from the contracts themselves effecting you. Now, don’t do what idiots do and split up again, I mean it. Now, go get the rest of those things, you’ll need them to even have a shot at getting close to the Devil. Once you _do_ get to him, I hope you do the right thing.”

“Gang up on him and make him cry like a baby?” Cuphead said.

“Make a scarf out of his tail?” Mugman suggested, the two brothers turned to one another then turned back to Elder and said at the same time

“Rip Ol’ scratch’s soul clear out and knock him around with it?” And the fact that they said it rather plainly and expectantly towards Elder, made the old man shed a tear. Inkwell however, wailed about how its’ children were becoming more violent like their father.

“Uh, well, you aren’t that strong yet boys. I mean, feasibly, you could get that strong, given enough experience that will surely be gained through this journey into owning up mistakes. However, save those thoughts for when you’re definitely sure. If you had my experience, I’d say go ahead. If anything, I’d be giving you tips on how to skin the shape shifter and wear his pelt like a trophy. For now, just, have it in your minds to _not die_. Especially not for some silly reason like you figured splitting up would get things done faster.” With that, he pat them on their shoulders, and shuffled off towards the bridge and the Die house. He muttered something to Inkwell, and the brothers watched their Elder knock the building clear into the water with one swing. They highly suspected Inkwell helped, but didn’t question it, they learned not to question their Elder a long time ago.

Mugman turned to Cuphead and pulled one of the soul contracts out of the reappeared rune. He carefully observed the parchment, looking for any hints as to if it was affecting either of them. Feeling nothing grand or immense, he shrugged, let Cuphead take a gander, put it back, and the two headed off. Elder turned before he finished crossing the newly cleared bridge and watched his boys head off towards the carnival. Idly, he hoped they didn’t have a fear of clowns or beefy red men promising to grant wishes if they rubbed a lamp. That, however, was a story for another time.

\---0---0---0---

The first name, or rather, the closest name, was Baroness von Bon Bon. The brothers distinctly recalled watching a rather regal looking lady with what they had guessed was painted pink skin handing out candy floss. They wondered if that was her, but figured they’d find out in a few moments. They looked up at the giant cupcake shaped building, looked at each other, and then opened the door and nearly fell over.

The buildings outside was a dirty liar because there was no way the rather impressive and _moving_ cake castle could fit.  Yet here it was, staring at them, literally staring at them, with two whole eyes. They heard what sounded like two pieces of glass clinking together and got their first up close glimpse of the Baroness. She gracefully passed through the barred mouth of the castle and approached them with a sweet smile. They figured it was because she was either trying to trick them into a false sense of peace or she was being a carnie.

“Why look what we have here! A couple of sweet-toothed children.” Her voice was sugary and she smelled like a walking sweets shop. Cuphead really took in her appearance now that she was standing before them and realized the reason for her smell. She was literally made of cake, he could hear it in how her joints let out a subtle squishing noise when bent. Her dress, which frankly now looked far too heavy, seemed like the only thing not made of cake.

“Hello Baroness von Bon Bon!” Mugman replied, figuring it couldn’t hurt to try and peacefully negotiate, though how he’d start that conversation he had no clue. She matched his bright smile with one of her own. In fact, it was almost the exact smile he used before he grew violent. Mugman felt his smile twist in response.

“Please don’t attack us.” Mugman quietly pleaded, though he didn’t exactly put much effort into it, seemingly realizing it wouldn’t work.

“Sorry sweetie, I’m only called that by people who know about a certain deal I made.” She told him, and though there was a hint of apology in her voice, it wasn’t enough to prevent the fight.

“I told you we should have pulled the creepy thing!” Cuphead proclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and glaring accusingly at Mugman.

“I thought that look said cute/harmless!” Mugman replied, an affronted look on his own face.

“What part of,” Cuphead gave his brother a look Baroness von Bon Bon could not identify. “Did you take as cute or harmless?”

“Oh I’m sorry, I couldn’t understand you through that accent of yours Mr. I-want-to-sound-tough.” Mugman retorted. Cuphead tossed his hands in the air again and turned so his back faced the two. Mugman scoffed and gestured to Baroness von Bon Bon in a way that said ‘see what I have to deal with.’ Baroness von Bon Bon had no idea how to go from that so she just gave him a confused look in return.

“I bet if we had done the creepy thing we could have had a chance to not get in a scuffle with a Baroness.” Cuphead’s voice had enough pout in it to make even the castle take notice and glance between the brothers.

“Yes well it’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? It’s your fault anyway.” Mugman turned his back to his brother and stuck his nose in the air. Cuphead whirled around and stomped his foot.

“My fault? I’m not the one that decided to use the name on the paper rather than the one on the giant sign out front!” Cuphead said indignantly. Mugman dramatically rolled his eyes and turned to face his sibling.

“ _Who_ decided I should be the one to speak? Oh right, big brother, with his magical big brother powers.” By this point the two had a small gathering of sweet treats who, scarily enough, were alive, and looked delicious.

“Oh blame big brother for everything, little brothers are best at the blame game, clearly.” The castle shared a look with Baroness von Bon Bon, both entirely unsure how to respond at all. The rest of the treats seemed just as confused.

“Yeah well, it’s not me who’s keeping this going, we could have been fighting right now, getting this over with. Instead we’re making her, and apparently her subjects, wait! What would mother say?” Mugman scolded, gesturing wildly to the surrounding crowd. A few awkwardly coughed into their hands.

“Mom would most definitely have understood the look I gave and we’d have avoided a fight entirely and have been out of here by now!” Cuphead replied, stomping until he was only a foot away from Mugman. Mugman glared up at his brother.

“Well currently,” He paused and let out a deep breath then turned to Baroness von Bon Bon. “I’m terribly sorry, it’s been a little tense. Look, why don’t my brother and I leave and come back after we’ve sorted this out. Gosh, fighting right in front of nobility.” Mugman gave her an apologetic expression that was so genuine Baroness just gestured for them to leave and waved them back out the door. The woman watched the children quietly argue with each other as they left, raising her brows at the scene until the door closed and everything went quiet. A waffle covered in maple syrup let out a wet cough when clearing its’ throat didn’t quite work. A gumball machine scuffed the floor with one metal foot. Baroness von Bon Bon, unsure of what to do now, brushed her hand down the front of her thick skirt, and started back for the entrance to the castle.

She got all of three steps before she froze and brushed her hand back over her skirt. If she wasn’t made of cake, she’d have paled and risked fainting. As it was, she frantically pat down her dress, her hands shook and her subjects took note, questioning her. Her castle, which noticed what the problem was, twisted and bent until it spit out a rather colorful shot gun. A few tiny jelly beans caught it and hefted it up to their ruler who was quickly gaining a rather ugly expression on her normally aristocratic and pretty face.

“They took my contract!” She shouted, snapping up the weapon and charging out the door before anyone could react. Her castle let out a moaning lament at the fact that it wouldn’t be able to help its’ Baroness. The rest of the subjects stared blankly at the spot she had been. A moment later, there was screaming, there was flailing, and then there was a stampede for the door.

\---0---0---0---

The brothers were hauling it as fast as they could, desperate to get away before she either noticed or someone else did. They darted past the odd sight of a trio of singers not singing but had no time to stop despite curiosity. As right when they got past a giant pyramid building, they heard an impressively loud and enraged scream from behind them.

“At least she can’t reach us!” Cuphead shouted to his brother. As if hearing him, which, was likely all things considered, there was a loud sound and a tree in front of them gained a new hole clean through its trunk. Mugman and Cuphead looked at one another, and then looked behind them and directly at the Baroness, who was hiking up her skirt in one hand so she wouldn’t trip while running, and trying to shoot with the other.

“Cuphead you aren’t allowed to open your mouth ever again!” Mugman shouted and stuffed the contract in with the rest. They dove behind the pyramid building and began scampering up it as best as Mugman’s magic would allow. Just as they reached the top, a shot rang out and the tip of the pyramid turned into a fine powdery mist. The brothers shrieked and launched themselves over to the other side, barely dodging another shot. There was some rather unladylike cursing and then more enraged shouting. The brothers didn’t hesitate to jump onto the nearby rooftops next to the pyramid and duck low, trying to figure out a better way to evade the woman without testing Mugman’s barrier strength. They still had no idea what her deal was beyond ‘turn me into cake and let me bring candy to life’, and even that was just an educated guess.

Shots rang out, sending the suspiciously few guests scampering for the bridge or shelter of their own. Pieces of rooftop and sign rained down around them and they quickly leapt over the side and tore off towards a large tent. Cuphead paused to tear a seat bolted to the ground up and threw it at the crazed gunner. She barely paused to drop her gown, line up the shot, and send the seat flying clear up into the air and then back towards the river. Mugman yanked Cuphead into the tent, right past the shocked canteen laden pilot; who took one look at the scene and absconded as fast as he could. Mugman sprang towards the line that would pull the tent flap back down and yanked on it just as the Baroness aimed her weapon at him. She gave him a rather terrifying snarl that vanished, along with her, when the flap came down heavily right on top of her. She topped over, a strange squelching noise coming from her left arm, which took the brunt of the impact.

Mugman winced, called out an apology, and ran right as she started trying to haul herself back out. The brothers scampered past a rather put out looking girl and dove behind an out of order tent. A rather surprised man dressed like one of the trio of singers stared at them. The boys quickly shushed him and peeked around the tent, hoping that they lost their pursuer. Instead they were rather confused at the strange red pole that hadn’t been there before. Slowly, they raised their gazes, moving their hats back and came face to face with a rather angry looking gumball machine. The brothers screamed, or, Cuphead did, Mugman yanked Cuphead back while lobbing a random spell at the thing. The two burst out of the bushes right as the gumball machine was literally rooted to the ground. The only one of her lackeys thus far to get past the tent flap somehow, angrily called out after them.

They tore past the rather shocked little girl and ran past an obnoxiously large bird house. Inkwell shook a couple of trees, directing their attention to a pathway that seemed to be hidden behind the mountain they’d nearly crashed into while fighting Hilda Berg. They gave quick thanks and then ran onto the path and didn’t stop until they came out on the other side of the island. Stumbling to a stop and plopping down, the two decided to rest for a few minutes and see if they were chased. After a solid five minutes of nothing, the two trekked back, knowing they’d have to go back anyway. It was up to where the Baroness was that woul determine how easy it would be to get the other contracts in that area. Mugman debated seeing if they couldn’t lure her back into her building and then seal the door up so they wouldn’t have to worry about her. Cuphead tried to remember how many subjects she had, or, in his mind, how many enemies they’d have to get through to go through with that plan.

As they reached the other side, jogging the whole way back to save time, they heard a commotion. It sounded like a rather unhappy situation back towards the tent area where they’d last seen her. The gumball machine, still rooted in place, waved them closer. Predictably they were cautious, stopping far enough back that they could dodge any attacks.

“You two rug-rats got our Baroness stuck! Get her free from that tent or face the wrath of her entire kingdom!” The gumball machine screamed at them, tugging at the roots but getting exactly nowhere. Evidently, despite being alive, it had no real strength beyond whatever allowed it to move. The brothers glanced at one another and then oh so carefully edged back into the tent. They spotted what could only be described as a herd of jelly bean creatures and the waffle creature they’d seen before all trying, and failing, to lift the flap. They could hear the Baroness letting out weak sounds of anger and pain, mixed with reassuring waves of the only hand that was free.

She’d managed to drag her head and shoulders free, one of her arms was a mess of frosting and ruined cake. The second she spotted them she desperately reached for her weapon, failed, as it had been knocked clean across the tent, and glared at them.

“You sneaky little rats.” She hissed, but there was no real heat to it, instead she sounded exhausted. The other denizens noticed the two, and a team of jelly beans immediately clustered together and charged at the two. It was almost comical watching their shocked faces as gravity reversed around them and they were sent right to the roof of the tent. The waffle creature’s arms shook under the weight of what little fabric they’d been able to lift, and though it was clear he wanted to try and take a swing, he was much more concerned with the Baroness.

“Uh, Baroness von Bon Bon?” Mugman hesitantly waved at the tent covering her body and Cuphead casually stomped on the shot gun’s barrel. It stood about as much of a chance against his strength as a dry twig.

“Looks like someone is in a… sticky situation!” Cuphead said, giving her a broad smile, she decided she did not like the red one. When the blue kid groaned and glared at his brother, she decided at least one of the two wasn’t a total fiend. It didn’t forgive stealing from her but it was a start.

“How sweet of you, picking at a gal while she’s down, you must be so popular with the ladies.” She intoned, tapping her remaining fingers in a clearly unimpressed manner on the ground. Cuphead gained a thoughtful look.

“Well I don’t know, what I do know is Mugman once got a bunch of girls to share candy with him. Course that was the one day I didn’t get to go to school.”

“I brought some back for you! Besides, all I did was let them play with my hair!” Mugman argued, looking like he wasn’t sure what the big deal was. Baroness thumped her head against the ground and then cringed, realizing she’d now be covered in even more dirt.

“He came back home looking like he’d just escaped one of those fancy salons, apparently a few of the older girls heard about it and went crazy.” Cuphead said while he strolled over until he was just out of range of the waffle creature.

“Gosh, I’d love to help you up, but I’m not too sure you won’t start shooting with some hidden weapon.” Cuphead told her, eyeing the rope to lift the flap. She gave him an incredulous look.

“Kid have you ever tried aiming a shot gun with one hand? You might as well—oh hello.” She blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting Mugman to drop to his knees right next to her and pull out a spare bit of cloth left over when the boys had been wiping off their own faces. He offered it to her, and she wondered if he wasn’t trying to sweet talk her into not killing him or he genuinely trusted that she wouldn’t try to rip out his throat.

“Cuphead, I don’t think she’ll be much of a threat, no offense, but getting squashed by this can’t have done many good things to your body, considering it’s apparently not flesh and bone.” Mugman said plainly, gesturing to where the worst of the dirt was. She paused and gave him a long look.

“It was part of my deal,” she spoke up after a quiet minute, “I wanted to be the sweetest ruler on the isle you see. It would surely take with the little kids to see a real peach of a lady passing around confections. Apparently, that furry bastard had read beauty and the beast beforehand, because next thing I know, I’ve got a bunch of cake pans that make a body, my own body becomes cake, and all of my workers get turned into, well. I didn’t really like it at first, cake rots after a while, and I wasn’t exactly great at baking such large cakes at first, but well, here we are.” She told the two, figuring she had nothing to lose, they already had her contract and Mugman clearly had magic she had no real chance of beating; if the jelly beans currently flailing around on the ceiling were anything to go by.

“So what you’re telling me, or what I’m hearing, is Devil is not only the worlds worst lender, considering the list of debtors we have to go after is so long. But he’s also horrible at the one thing people apparently go to him for.” Cuphead spoke up, kicking at the tent flap and testing its weight with one hand.

“He’s not bad at it,” She explained, “He just does whatever you tell him in whatever way he thinks still fits the deal but amuses him too. He’s like Djimmi, who, good luck beating by the by. He’ll likely be the next one you go for. Maybe if you apologize to Djimmi for using his home as a shield, he’ll go easy on you.” She had given up on the idea of murdering them, it was fairly obvious Cuphead planned on helping her. Just as soon as he was sure she wouldn’t attack him which, she wouldn’t. She knew a loss when it happened and like the Baroness she was, she’d take it gracefully. Cuphead eyed her for a few more seconds, then he started for the rope. She waved her former waffle cone cart owner and inhaled deeply the instant the flap was lifted off her. She laid there, staring at the scruffy brown shoes on Mugman, and then a hand was offered to her. She glanced up at Mugman and took his offering, letting the shorter and rather cold child help her up. Mugman lowered her jelly bean’s down carefully, and Cuphead strolled over after securing the flap.  The way he angled himself so he was in front of Mugman told her he clearly thought she still had a trick up her glove.

“Boy, if I had another weapon, I’d have used it by now. I’m far more interested in fixing myself up, I know when I’m outgunned.” She told him and gratefully leaned on the waffle maker. Cuphead eased back and checked a piece of paper he’d pulled out from under his hat.

“Well, I guess that was our, what, second good deed of the day? We really should get going, it’s going to be getting darker soon.” He said, trying to judge who was next. She leaned a bit closer, trying to get a feel for who was a target, and noted quite a number of her fellow carnies. A flash of light made her flinch back and immediately turn her attention to Mugman. He gestured to her dress, now cleaned of dirt, though there were still a couple of grass stains at the bottom hem.

“Sorry, I’m not too great at removing stains quite yet. I’m working on it though!” He told her merrily, and her frown finally melted off into a neutral expression. She politely thanked him and gestured for Cuphead to hand her the list. Cuphead, clearly still a bit suspicious, though she wasn’t offended, she frankly thought he should be more suspicious.

“Djimmi the great, he’ll probably be the worst one to take on if you two have any weakness to magic or have a habit of saying ‘I wish’. Beppi the clown? Oh, that air-head, good luck, he’s got a meaner sense of humor than any clown ever should. Wally is up back the way you two came, Grim Matchstick however, is across the way. He’s a real sweetheart and if you get him laughing, you have a chance of avoiding a fight.” With that, she handed it back to him and the jelly beans ushered the kids out so she could point out the specific buildings the ones closest were in. The bright and cheery smile Mugman gave her was rather endearing, and the enthusiastic thanks she got from Cuphead equally so. She waved the two away, reassuring them that she’d be entirely fine getting back to her castle. She thought that at least she didn’t have to worry about walking around with a squashed arm and torso _and_ a stained gown.

Sometimes she hated the fact that she had a weakness to children. Even as she was joined by a newly freed Gumball, she couldn’t help but watch which person they went after next. She almost winced when they headed for Djimmi’s place, those two were in for a nasty fight.

“Oh Ms. Baroness!” Mugman called out to her, right before he and his brother entered the Pyramid. “That outfit should be dirt and dust proof now! It’ll help keep dirt off you!” He told her, and without waiting for a response, and clearly ignoring the ‘you’re too nice Mugs, she shot at us for Elder’s sake,’ from his brother, he headed into the building. Cuphead followed immediately. She stared at her gown, watched a jelly bean pick up a tiny handful of dirt, and watched the dirt just glide off the fabric leaving not a single grain. Apparently, the kid doubted his own ability too, because even the stains were fading quickly. She vowed that the next time she saw him she’d give him the biggest hug she could. Which meant she’d have to fire up her ovens and bake another arm. With a suddenly determined stride, she headed into her home and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Auntie Bon Bon will never be more thankful for the blessing given to her by her soon to be adopted nephew. Granted, she'll have to duke it out with Auntie Chalice, that or share the auntie spot. Who knows, maybe she'll repay him by aiding the two in battle later! Side note, this thing is the longest story I've written and it isn't even half done.


	9. Wishes are for Weenies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Djinn sure are tough if you don't have magic for days. That's a lie, they're still tough if you don't have exact knowledge of the behemoth given to you after being brought back from the dead.

The pyramid’s outside lied about how large the inside was. The place was massive, and the two wound up staring at the wide expanse of sand for an embarrassing amount of time.  The two distinctly remembered the Baroness’s warning about Djimmi’s magic. Mugman wondered if Elder had the magic to out-do whatever Djimmi was because if Elder did, Mugman did. There was no real way to know now, Elder was likely back home, and the brothers didn’t have much time before night fell.

“What’s this wandering into Djimmi the Great’s domain? A couple of lost souls it seems!” A voice boomed from above them and the two flinched, looking up and letting out confused noises when they saw nothing. Two frankly massive hands thumped down on their shoulders and next thing the two knew they were in the air. Or, they weren’t. Something was telling Mugman that everything he was seeing and feeling wasn’t true, and he latched onto it. Cuphead apparently had nothing to ground him, so Mugman started to dig into the ocean of magic he’d inherited. The hand on his shoulder tightened significantly and he winced.

“Now that’s not very kind of you, destroying my wonderful home and then stomping in. Not even a single hello! Who raised you little rats?” The owner of the hands lowered his head down and the two got a glimpse of the debtor. There was no way this guy wasn’t. His grin was far too wide, almost unnatural. His skin looked like it was supposed to be tan, but waves of red would pulse just underneath and fade back into tan. Like there was something underneath his skin trying to escape but being unable to. He had a brightly colored outfit on, teal and gold and flashy, exactly something a carnie would wear. He was looking at Mugman more than he was Cuphead, as if he knew Mugman wasn’t being pulled under his illusion. Cuphead’s sibling instincts reared their head and he reached to yank the guy away from his far more fragile brother. Between one blink and the next, Djimmi vanished and reappeared a few feet in front of them.

Cuphead paused and looked to Mugman to figure out how to respond. Mugman had ignored the reappearing debtor and continued to stare at the air between them. Going for broke, he snapped his elbow out and the Djimmi in front of them vanished. The real one reared back in surprise, his nose clutched in one hand. The guy was huge, the brothers wouldn’t have been surprised if Djimmi could have taken out Ribby and Croaks just by stretching. Even more surprising was when he moved his hand and there was no damage. Cuphead knew he hadn’t put a lot into the hit, but it still should have done _something_.

“Oh I see how it is, you’re not going to play fair. Tag teaming against an innocent Carnival worker, what has this world come to!” Djimmi dramatically draped himself over a fancy chest, the golden glow from the box washing over him. Mugman gingerly poked at the air around them with his own magic and if dolls could grow pale, he would have. The sly grin Djimmi gave him told Mugman all he needed to know. The very air they surrounded by was _drenched_ in Djimmi’s magic. It was far too expansive for someone like Mugman, who was still relatively new. The magic in the air suddenly slammed down on him and it was only because his magic had responded in kind that he didn’t collapse under the weight.

“That’s right! Djimmi the great isn’t like the others on that list of yours. See, they made paltry wishes and deals, I didn’t. Have you heard of the legends surrounding magic lamps?” Djimmi asked, the chest he was draped across rising into the air. Cuphead noticed how Mugman was following the ascent and started looking around the sand for any way to help out. Mugman was far too nervous for Cuphead’s comfort. Mugman was the one to nod, the air around him pushing down more and more. It almost felt like it was trying to find his breaking point. His magic, far from impressed returned fire and kept the pressure from ever becoming too great on Mugman. Cuphead seemed to be spared from this at least. Mugman had no idea how his sibling would be reacting to a force he couldn’t just punch or outwit… and then punch.

“See, I had heard of them too! I wanted to be like them. Could you imagine how grand shows would be if I had the raw magic of a Djinn in a lamp? So I found the king of beasts himself, and I made a wish. I thought I’d been smart in how specific I was.” Djimmi spoke, the chest moving up until he could look them in the eye, upside down as he was.

“Lo and behold, I was quite wrong! Djimmi, the guy with paltry sleight of hand tricks was mashed together with the soul of true Djinn! Now you’d think that the Djinn would be angry, maybe even enraged. We were for a bit. That changed when we realized, because our souls were human and Djinn, we were no longer bound to our prison! We’re free to do whatever I want, and that includes using the power of a Djinn to grant my own wishes. I’m sure you can guess why I don’t want to hand over my contract.” Djimmi gave the two a too wide and far too sinister grin. He vanished from the air and appeared directly in front of Cuphead. Cuphead didn’t even have time to react before he was sent back by some unknown force and into a sarcophagus.

“That’s quite a bit of magic you’ve got packed in under that glass of yours.” Djimmi turned his full attention to Mugman. Mugman was torn between going to help his sibling and not taking his eyes off Djimmi.

“It was a gift.” He said, and his jaw creaked with warning. Evidently the constant magic muscle war _was_ affecting his body.

“So it seems, shame you don’t know how to use it properly. All that wasted potential makes my heart hurt.” The chest floated higher up into the air until it was hovering over the sarcophagus.

“If you let my brother out, he’ll make a lot more than your heart hurt.” Mugman replied, giving in and taking a step towards his brother. He just about screamed when the chest snapped open and a blue sword slammed into the ground at his feet.

“He’ll be easy if you aren’t helping. Now, I might be inclined to let you go if you hand over those contracts.” Djimmi offered out one hand. Mugman arched one brow and didn’t bother to move. Djimmi sighed and lifted off the floor. Mugman’s magic seemed to notice his growing unease and, much like Inkwell did, sent a brush of comfort over his soul.

“What’s your deal kid?” Djimmi asked, taking his hand back and casually waving between him and the trapped brother in red. Mugman wondered if something was wrong with Cuphead, he had thought Cuphead would have escaped by now. As if physically wounded by his silence, Djimmi reared back and vanished into the sand.

“I see how it is, very well then, let’s have a battle, shall we? May the strongest win.” Djimmi’s voice echoed throughout the entire area, and a sudden wave of pressure sent Mugman to the ground. It was only by sheer luck that he managed to scramble out of the way of a hail of swords pouring from the chest. When Mugman tried to pull up a barrier, his frazzled mind could barely poke at the magic in him before a gigantic skeletal hand smashed down onto the barrier. It flared a vivid green and the hand was blown clear off the wrist joint. Djimmi’s laughter filled the air.

“I’ll admit, this almost feels like kicking a sick puppy. If it makes you feel better, I’ll be sure to use your corpse as a part of my show.” A hand tore up from the sand, wrapping around Mugman and hefting him into the air. Mugman’s magic rolled and hissed. All it needed was a green light from its’ new home and conductor.  Mugman desperately held onto his jaw and dearly wished his sibling was here. It would be so satisfying to hear Djimmi’s nose break. He also wished he knew how to use the sheer ocean of magic he had beyond a few impressive skills. There just hadn’t been time for him to learn everything Elder knew. The hand around him tightened and he heard his body creak in warning.

It was a right shame Djimmi seemed to have forgotten about Cuphead. The sarcophagus looked oddly constipated, the expression on its painted face strained and worried. One moment the door was there, the next, it was flying through the air, obliterated the skeletal head rising up from the sand. Mugman was dropped and it was his magic that caught him before he hit the ground. Cuphead stumbled out of the gilded coffin, his clothing mussed up and his eyes blazing with unholy rage.

“Ghosts?! Really? I fought way scarier ghouls than that you two-bit genie! Now hand over the damn contract!” Cuphead shouted, grabbing his former cage and viciously throwing it at a gob smacked Djimmi.

\---0---0---0---

From outside, passer-by’s finally getting over the wild shootout from the Baroness were walking around, believing they were safe. The pyramid reaching high above them spontaneously gaining a new hole right out one side and a mangled golden shine streaking out proved them wrong. There was screaming, there was cussing, there was flailing. Baroness von Bon Bon paused in her humming at the strange noises but ultimately went back to checking on her new body parts.

\---0---0---0---

It was by dumb luck and a bit of magical intervention that Djimmi didn’t follow the tomb out the gaping hole in his illusion. He stared at the hole, jaw clear to the floor. Cuphead ripped the remaining bones wrapped around Mugman and let out a noise of frustration when the bones vanished. Mugman reached for anything that would help Cuphead withstand the illusions. Anything to aid his sibling would be appreciated. His magic responded readily, and Cuphead found a pair of glasses popping out of the air and putting themselves on his face. The comforting wash of familiar magic eased him a bit and he was grateful to finally see the place as it truly was. Beyond the edge of the glasses, bright gold sand spread out for miles. Within them, there was still sand, but it was illuminated by stage lights, not the sun. Cuphead noticed that Djimmi still towered over them.

Djimmi regained his senses and looked at Cuphead, regarding him as an actual threat now. Realizing he’d have to change tactics, he pushed the full weight of his magic down on the blue brother and dug into the red brothers wide open mind. Mugman crashed to the ground, his knee’s cracking and a piece of his arm breaking clean off. Cuphead, unable to see what was going after Mugman panicked and flung the next nearest item at Djimmi. Djimmi caught the bullet like projectile mid-air and sent it right back at him, a grin on his face that only grew the more Cuphead’s sudden headache did.

“Oh the joys of close family. The assumed shared fears are always the easiest to _dig into_.” Djimmi said, his smug expression not even wavering when Mugman’s magic heaved up and sent his own magic away. He snapped his fingers together and the Djinn in him, eager to see the brothers lose as well, gave him what he wanted. He vanished from their view and reappeared up on the rafters, wires dug into the sand in front of the two, grew taut, and began pulling something up.

 Mugman could feel his magic snarling and snapping at the thin wall where it usually was fine resting behind. His cracks were repaired faster than he’d ever seen before and the pressure that had been on him was all but gone. He dearly wished he had asked Elder how he handled so much magic, and made a mental promise to do so, if whatever was coming didn’t kill them.

From the sand rose a doll. It had white hair, much like them, tinged blue specifically like Mugman’s. It had the same wide eyes as Mugman too, but the ones in its face were expressionless. There was a carved smile on its face and its nose and cheeks flushed the same tint of red Cuphead’s was. The way the doll was slumped, only held up by the strings was unnerving to the two. Even more unnerving was when Cuphead edged closer, its’ head snapped up and it faced him. Cuphead immediately put himself between the thing and his downed brother. Though its expression didn’t change, it seemed to look darkly amused by the action.

“Why don’t you boys fight yourselves for once!” Djimmi said from somewhere above, and the doll darted forward. Cuphead intercepted the swung punch and was about to crush the thing’s hand, but the flash of bluish white hair made him pause and he didn’t notice the fist that smashed into his cheek until it hit. He staggered back, his cheek cracked and raining tiny pieces of porcelain. His brother’s hand brushed across his back and in a split second the crack was fixed. He would have wondered when Mugman suddenly got so fast at healing but had no time. The doll went after him again, this time, a light touch to his sternum sent him flying back, an invisible force then tried to pin him down.

The doll turned its attention to Mugman whose cheeks were flushed a darker blue. Mugman would have been nervous, but his magic was demanding he let it do what it wanted like he had before in the mausoleum and he didn’t want to let it. Not when Cuphead wasn’t nearby. It metaphorically threw its hands into the air and allowed another barrier to spring up and block the impressively hard punch the doll threw.  Mugman, distracted as he was, wasn’t distracted to the point where he didn’t notice the similarities the doll shared with his brother and him, and the part not drowning in trying to reason with whatever Elder’s magic was, got an idea.

“Cuphead!” Mugman called out, Cuphead felt the pressure vanish in a flash of blue and sat up, ready to listen.

“Sibling fight!” Mugman shouted, the barrier between him and the weird amalgamation flickering.

“Sibling fight?!” Cuphead perked up and looked between Mugman and the doll.

“ _Sibling fight._ ” The more fragile brother pointedly stared at the red coloring on the doll that clearly matched Cuphead. Cuphead finally clicked into the idea, and Djimmi felt a shiver of nervousness crawl down his spine.

“ ** _Sibling fight._** ” The two said at the exact same time, and it was only then that the doll showed any expression. It was one of pure terror.

\---0---0---0---

The golden thing that had been too busted to tell what it was had scared people that had just barely settled from before. This time, the sounds of screaming and demented laughter and what some recognized as the Carnie in there shouting desperate questions of someone’s mental state sent them into a new bout of fear. The next thing anyone knew, there was a half-broken puppet looking porcelain doll crawling out, fear clear on its face. There was a flash of white and an unknown hand grabbed the remaining leg, dragging it back in. No one brought up the pleading look it had given the outsiders. No one said a word.

\---0---0---0---

Djimmi, upon regaining his senses, immediately sent his creation back under the sands. He could still hear sobbing from it even after he’d let it burrow deep, far from their grip. The two let out twin sounds of annoyance and Djimmi just got fed up. He pulled out his lamp from under his hat, and harshly rubbed across its surface. There was a dark wash of shadow that blasted out from the spout and the world grew hazy.

\---0---0---0---

Now there were what could only be described as eldritch horrors reaching grotesque tentacles out from the hole in the pyramid. If the people had thought today would ever return to normal, they tossed that thought out and dove for the nearest cover. Some even said to hell with it and just bailed clean into the river, swimming away as fast as they could. Inkwell wondered if Djimmi realized he’d made the worst decision he possibly could have. It figured he didn’t, because if he’d remembered that magic in it’s blue child, he’d have just passed over the contract. He didn’t. He would wish he had. For now, birds fled, fish swam away, clouds scattered as fast as the wind could take them.

\---0---0---0---

Shadows snapped at the brothers heels while they tried to reorient themselves within the new space. It was evident that Djimmi was full on bending reality now and no amount of illusion breaking would help them. It made sense that a half human Djinn could have this kind of fire power. Djinn did insanely mind breaking things in all of the stories the brothers had read. Maybe they should have gone about this a different way but seeing as Mugman was still trying to figure out time magic, there’d be no way for them to ever know if there had been another option.

Between snarling swords with teeth and pyramids blasting impossibly hot beams at them, the brothers had little time to talk. Cuphead had managed to leave a sizeable dent in one of the pyramids but that was about all he’d done before he’d had to see just how effective the clothing was. The runes had sparked to life and he’d vanished from his spot and appeared a few feet to the right. Just enough to dodge the swords that slammed deep into the sand where he’d been before. Mugman was diving and rolling, trying to avoid being caught by the pillars rumbling out of the sand and breaking them apart if he couldn’t dodge fast enough. He too had put the clothing to work. His magic had soured at using someone else’s spell when it could do so much better and the sharp sting of pain in Mugman’s chest was its way of telling him that.

“You shouldn’t have angered a Djinn, boys!” Djimmi shouted, his voice clear over the sounds below. “We Djinn deal in things your brains couldn’t even begin to wrap around! We offered a way of peace and you spurred us. Reap what you sow!” His voice sounded layered, like multiple people were talking with him. The brothers had to focus entirely on dodging and surviving, so they didn’t reply back. Cuphead did take a spare moment to throw a chunk of pyramid at the fully red man above him. It was devoured by the shadows pouring out of the lamp before it even got close. The only reason he didn’t try again was due to the plane he’d flown before, which, should have been at the bottom of the ocean, raining bullets down on his spot. A white barrier flared up and the bullets ricocheted back at the thing. Cuphead glanced at his brother and felt the equivalent to his heart shoot up to his throat.

Mugman was dodging and moving out of the way and breaking the pillars, but there was a certain way he was moving that made Cuphead want to run for the hills. He just about screamed for his brother when Mugman suddenly staggered and fell to his knees, slumping forward. The fact that everything but him and Djimmi froze was what stopped him.

\---0---0---0---

If Mugman was being honest, he would readily agree that the compounding returned pressure in the air and angry imploring demands from his magic made him snap. Djimmi really shouldn’t have kept putting so much of his magic onto antagonizing Mugman. It was simply too much, but he’d apologize to Elder later. For now, he was in pain down to his very soul, his brother was banged up _again_ and he was done. He grabbed the thin film that held the magic down and tore at it. Ripping it to shreds wherever he could grab. His magic, formerly Elder’s, rose up in a monstrous wave and _laughed_. Djinn were strong. Djinn were just about the last thing a mage ever wanted to fight. Djinn were entirely reliant on just how strong their magic was. Magic that Elder’s former ocean **_feasted on_** _._

The area around Mugman looked like it was warping and melting. It was silent one moment, the next, a rune the Djinn had only ever seen a few times carved itself deep into the ground around Mugman. The djinn let out a collective “oh…oh shit.” Then, the world snapped back into focus and Cuphead grew afraid for his brother.

“Mr.Djimmi, it’s wonderful to hear you have such confidence in those Djinn you’ve been attached too. I like my magic too, it does some amazing things. But see, we do differ on one major regard when it comes to magic.” Mugman finally looked up and something dug invisible claws into Djimmi’s leg and Djimmi was sent into the ground so hard the building shook. He landed a few feet from Mugman, his face turned to the mage.

“Wrap your brain around _this._ ” The rune under Mugman blazed to life, but not in the way they normally did. This one seemed to be sucking the very light out of the area, and the magic in the air _screamed_. “If you’re lucky and have the brains to give up, this will stop before it finds the magic binding your soul and you won’t be torn to pieces.” The playful way Mugman spoke did nothing to hide the uncharacteristic malice.

It was then, realizing that the air was clearing and the shadows from the lamp were being dragged into the rune that Cuphead realized the thing was like a super charged version of the one Mugman had left in the Root Packs garden. It was flat out eating every shred of magic in the air. He felt it grab at him and the runes on him, hesitate for a moment, and then brush by. He really, _really_ wished one of them had asked Elder how he’d gotten so strong before they figured it out via trial by fire. Oh sure, the mausoleum had been bad, but it was weak in comparison to this. The mausoleum was Mugman letting his magic have one free token to do one thing. This was him giving it a free pass for everything, and Cuphead wasn’t sure he liked that. He only managed to not freak out entirely because he felt the magic recognize him and actively avoid hurting him.

Djimmi had no reservations and immediately tried scrambling away. His head cracked against an invisible wall, and he felt his world tilt sideways for a moment. It was then he realized he’d recognized this magic. There’d been a man that had stopped by years ago, had been summarily unimpressed by his show, but had given him a pat on the back that had sent him into the ground. It was the same magic the Djinn in him had remarked on while he was picking himself up. Apparently that man had crafted himself some kids and gifted his power and magic to them. The Djinn were screaming and clawing at the walls, trying to cut off the lamp so it would stop feeding the devouring magic everything they had. The terrifyingly blank look the blue brother was giving him made him wonder if it was the magic doing the talking. He dearly hoped not, magic was far less forgiving.

Luckily for him, it was Mugman still in control, even if he was holding back on reigning his magic back in. This was the first time it looked like he’d be the only one taking down a debtor. While he was glad he was finally doing more than helping from the side, he wished it wasn’t because he’d given his magic a free pass to handle everything. His magic heard his thoughts, and immediately pulled back on its intensity. The powerful drain still threatened to tear Djimmi apart by his very soul, but now Djimmi actually had a chance to think about the one way he’d get out. It sort of hoped he did it soon, Mugman was going to be losing consciousness soon, his soul was far too new to take on this level of magic at this intensity. Djimmi himself seemed to realize he needed to throw in the towel, his form was shivering, as if cold, and the Djinn were weakly begging him to get away.

In a quick, desperate decision, he pulled his soul contract out and offered it to Mugman, his hand shaking violently. Mugman’s face lit up and he accepted the offer of peace. The drain all but vanished and though the rune remained, the lamp was able to cut itself off and fall to the floor. The pyramids all ceased their movements, the chest and swords fell to the ground, and everything grew quiet. Cuphead rushed over, leaping over Djimmi and landing before Mugman. Djimmi didn’t even care, too busy regaining his breath and reorganizing the magic he had left. There’d be no shows for a while, that was for damn sure.

“Cuphead look! I got it! Without you needing to-“ Mugman fell asleep mid-sentence, flopping over into the sand. Cuphead scrambled to pick his brother up, well aware Djimmi was still behind him. Djimmi, as a way of showing he wasn’t a threat, let himself fall into the sand as well and roll onto his back.

\---0---0---0---

Elder had wondered when something would make Mugman hand over the reigns to the beast that was under his control now. Ninety years of devouring and assimilating magic into his own, bolstering it and helping it grow to its current point was the reason it was so damn powerful. That, and the fact that the magic was inherited down his family line. He'd only been helping it eat for ninety, but his ancestors had been doing it for centuries. The chunks of the magic of the land under them had given it a bit of a bite back too. He had been lucky, being so used to it and getting it to listen to him and obey his commands. That, and being passed down, was likely the only reason it was so docile and willing to wait for the okay before showing off. It was also the reason Mugman wasn’t overpowered by it and dragged under. He only wished he’d told them that before they’d done the stupid thing and had to learn it the hard way. Learning via hard way meant he couldn’t enjoy watching his kids freak the ever-loving hell out.

There was plenty of time for that later he supposed. For now, he and Inkwell celebrated their second child surviving the beast that was his magic when it was doing what it had done before anything else. His gluttonous magic _being_ a magic hog was the only reason he’d been able to do so many things without feeling tired at all. Mugman just needed to acclimate his soul to the tune the magic let off and he’d be a challenge even for the Devil. For now, with how young he still was, he’d have to hope he never let the magic put a devour rune down in Hell. There was only one other mage that had tried that and no one knew what had happened to them.

It was still a tragedy that he’d yet to figure out how to pop good whiskey out of thin air though. Three Djinn devoured entirely and he still couldn’t get his own damn magic to poof up great liquor or even a solid plate of pigs in a blanket. It was lame and he sorely hoped he’d see Mugman manage it before death came for him. While he thought on how Mugman would learn how, a stray thought about his strength crossed his mind and he sort of hoped they never asked. There was no way to make “eggs were cheap and back in my day there was nothing to do but hard labor. That and spiting the jerks that told a kid that mages were supposed to wear robes and look noble.” There really wasn’t, and no amount of spinning it would let it get past the brothers’ scrutiny. So, for now, he rocked in his rocker and sipped his spiked tea. He held the telescope to his eye and surveyed the new dent in the mountain.

\---0---0---0---

“Did I hear right? That kid _hasn’t_ been getting all the contracts you have?” Djimmi said when Cuphead had finally realized he wasn’t going suddenly leap up and take the thing back. Cuphead scowled at him.

“Mugman isn’t violent, normally. If his magic did something to him I’ll come back here and crush you.” Cuphead threatened, trying to figure out where he could take his brother without trekking all the way back to the first isle. Djimmi huffed out a weak laugh.

“Kid, I don’t think you have to worry about that. If he was taken over, I wouldn’t be talking to you. You got what you came here for, why don’t you go back and pester Bon Bon.” Djimmi rolled over so his back faced the kids.

“Are you sure he’ll be fine?” Cuphead hesitantly asked. He dearly hated how he just didn’t know as much about magic. He’d read the books, but it wasn’t the same as having the real thing. Djimmi lifted a hand and waved him away, clearly unwilling to say much else.

“Yes, take it from me, he’ll be fine. He probably just overtaxed whatever makes you and him run. He’ll need to sleep for a bit and then he should be good as new. Good luck taking down whoever else is on that list. I hope Beppi runs you over.” Djimmi said. The lamp shook and he was gone. Cuphead’s scowl returned and he held back from kicking the lamp as hard as he could. There was no point after all and his brother needed a place to rest.

“You need to stop knocking yourself out Mugs. I’m going to start carrying around a pillow if you keep this up.” Cuphead teased while leaving the building. Mugman, asleep as he was, didn’t respond, but that was probably for the best. To add to the overall way the day had gone, the day was, in fact gone. The moon shone brightly above them and the sun was barely visible on the horizon. Cuphead let out a weak laugh and did as Djimmi suggested. He wondered how friendly Baroness would be to him and Mugman.

\---0---0---0---

Auntie Bon Bon, as he was going to call her in his head from then on, was astoundingly friendly. Apparently stain-proofing the gown of a woman who was made of sugar and candy and always wound up dirty was such a wonderful thing, she’d taken one look at the two after the castle had sent her up she’d fret over them. It reminded him of Auntie Chalice in a way. She ushered the two into the castle, where Cuphead swore the very air was made of sweet bread with how saturated in the warm smell of a bakery it was. She’d offered the two of them a room and had quickly shoved a couple pairs of pajama’s into Cuphead’s hands, shut the door behind her after telling him she’d check on them in an hour, and left. Cuphead stared at the clothes and figured it couldn’t hurt. If anything, Inkwell would find a way to wake them up if they slept too long.

He looked at the list, sitting on the rather plush bed, and got to thinking. They weren’t even halfway done with the list. They had ten contracts left if Cuphead was right, and they were now heading towards day two, the final day. He knew Mugman would kill him for doing what he was about to do again. But he was worried they’d be rushing too much tomorrow. Sure his brother could _likely_ gather up all the contracts quickly. But it wasn’t Mugman’s job to, and Mugman was still new to the apparent titan he had on a leash. He just didn’t have it in him to use his magic like Elder likely would have. Mugman would never be able to use the magic like that, if he knew his brother at all. So, leaving his brother changed in the soft blue pajama’s, he’d left to go get at least one more contract.

The next name on his list was Beppi the Clown, and it was just a right shame he wasn’t fond of clowns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as a way to apologize for taking so long with this, I'll be updating this twice and then working on the next Lady chapters. I never intended to let this story sit so long. The drabble chapter I finished yesterday is what had it dragging though. So yes! Elder's magic for days is like that due to being a glutton and devouring, then taking and using whatever magic it eats. If anyone reading this has played Final Fantasy, you'll recognize it as a sort of Blue magic. This stuff is far cooler though, it doesn't have a mixed success rate. It's also entirely content to sit back and do whatever is asked of it until its new home is being threatened by some smarmy genie. Mugman will get better with it as we go on, now that he's got a better idea of what kind of arsenal he's got in him. Still, young as he is, it'll be a bumpy ride. Cuphead, ever one to repeat past mistakes, is going off into the evening to fight Beppi the peppy clown all alone.


	10. Don't be upsetti, it is me, Beppi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of clowning around never hurt anyone, until it did. The question is, is it still funny?

Cuphead managed to sneak out of the castle without alerting Auntie Bon Bon, which, considering the castle was alive and had given him an odd look, was pretty good. He’d shushed it and told it what he planned on doing, because it was a castle and castles didn’t have legs nor hands to stop him. It didn’t even have a voice, which was great news for his sneaking out business. Sure, it was likely stupid, what he was doing, but Mugman was not only his impulse control, but his more elaborate common sense. Since Mugman was down for the count for who knew how long, Cuphead would have to doll up and get stuff done.

He used the vivid and colorful lights to guide him, wondering why he didn’t have super amazing night vision. He didn’t have human eyes, and yet the lights he did have were just as lame as the common eye and he found that to be entirely too boring. If he was mentally stalling himself from charging into the domain of one of his childhood enemies, no one could blame him. Or they could, he’d just kick their shins and leave them to suffer for being rude and judgmental. He had to tilt his head to see the full size of the roller coaster. The thing seemed to go on forever, and Cuphead couldn’t help but scratch under his hat at the strange design. How long was the roller coaster ride if it was this convoluted? Even worse, how long was the wait to get on this thing?

Cuphead didn’t really want to know, what he did know, was that stalling risked Mugman waking up and finding out what he was doing and burying Cupheads’ head. So Cuphead adjusted his belt and entered the ride. He didn’t bother to believe he wouldn’t regret doing this, no need to give fate any more ammo than it already had.

\---0---0---0---

Cuphead did not like clowns. He hated how their smiles always looked too wide and their skin too pale. He did not like them, not one bit. He liked ones that had devil powers even less. One second he’d been ascending the ramp leading to the track, the next, a hail of balloon animals rained on him and his vision was obscured and then he was _on_ _the track itself_. He was also inches from the debtor, who was, in fact, a clown. A squeaky clown that was bald and lanky and looked made of rubber. Every movement he made sounded like a balloon had been stuffed under a shirt. It would have been funny if he didn’t dislike clowns so much. So he did what he normally did when faced with something he didn’t like.

“Wow, not even ten steps and you’re clowning around with me, this won’t be a joke, that’s for sure.” Cuphead said, his voice light, his grin wide. Beppi laughed, slapped his knee which allowed for a wide array of squeaks and Cuphead knew his brother would love this guy had he been here.

“Oh boy! A rabble-rouser who’s really… _kiln it_!” Beppi said, his voice airy and, no surprise, a tad squeaky. Cuphead maintained his grin, using the doll portion of his body to keep it perfectly in place despite the unnerved tilt to his eyebrows.

“Well, I’m not just an air-head.” Cuphead tried, and Beppi snorted, then broke into full laughter, and Cuphead could have cried. Beppi’s head was growing larger the harder he laughed, it was inflating. He refused to admit to himself that he’d made the squeaky noise that time, but he knew he had.

“Oh it’s a shame doll face, I think we really could put our acts together if we hadn’t met on other sides of the glass.” Beppi said, his entire body now one size bigger than it had been before and Cuphead wondered when they’d run into someone that didn’t tower over them. He sort of hated Elder for not giving them tall bodies. Then he imagined his brother with longer legs, stumbling around like a baby giraffe he’d seen at the zoo, and a far less nervous laugh escaped.

“Well, that’s how the coaster rolls. Let’s not get off track here. I’m ready to rumble if you are.” He replied. Maybe it was because they’d just fought a reality bending Djinn man, but when an entire bumper car appeared under Beppi and he sat in the far too small vehicle, Cuphead was not that impressed.

“Oh that really bumps my mood down a notch.” He figured telling Beppi was the last quip he’d get out before the real battle started, therefore he had nothing to lose. Beppi snorted and gripped the wheel, squeaking the entire way.

“Well here’s hoping this bumps you off the mortal coil too.” Beppi hissed, literally, and the bumper car gunned to life. Cuphead just barely dodged the initial peel out by leaping up. He landed in time to have to jump again, Beppi reached to grab his ankle, missed, and gave him a side glare while jerking the wheel to make another sharp turn. Cuphead, not fond of hopping like a rabbit, braced himself and at the moment the cart got in range, he lashed his foot out. Really, he loved the runes that enhanced his body to be able to withstand his strength whenever he used it. Sure, the runes being activated all the time making him impossible to break would be nice, but he’d take what he could get. What he got was the entire front of the bumper car sailing through the air into the distance, nearly clipping a cabin on the Ferris wheel in the distance. Beppi went sailing forward, his body carrying on the momentum and he went clear off the side of the track.

Just when Cuphead was wondering how he’d get the contract now, he felt the track rumble under his feet, and it was by sheer luck he jumped in time. Sure, some poor fella now had a shoe print on their face and some kid would have a headache, but it was probably better than broken porcelain getting in their eyes. From below, Beppi rose, his whole body now inflated like a balloon, and Cuphead grew uncomfortable. Boy he really did dislike clowns, ones that could fill themselves with helium and not get that funny high-pitched voice were even worse. The whole point of helium was for silly voices, not growing three times ones’ original size and floating beside the track with active roller coaster cars going by.

“Please keep all hands, arms, feet and legs inside the ride at all times. Here at the Isle Carnival, our number one concern is your safety. We won’t hesitate to crack down on any rule breakers out there!” Beppi spoke above the sound of the coasters now rumbling faster along the track, and towards Cuphead.

“Man, you clown’s always have a one-track mind!” Cuphead managed while leaping over the next car, apologizing to the poor lady whose rather nice-looking makeup was now ruined. Beppi laughed up to the point where Cuphead ripped an empty car off the back of the next coaster and threw it at him. Beppi let out a massive gust of air when the car impacted into his stomach and he deflated. Cuphead took that moment to take a breather despite not feeling true fatigue. He’d been doing a lot of moving all day and his body was demanding rest for repairs to be done.

“You won’t be winning today kid! Neigh! It shall be Beppi who rides off into the sunset!” Cuphead groaned. He wished he could be surprised that Beppi would have access to a carousel horse.

“But of course, you have a horse. A horse of course that…breathes fire? This race just got red hot!” Cuphead replied, narrowly avoiding the white-hot horse-shoes. He wound up tripping on the next coaster he tried to dodge and winced when he felt someone’s arm bend funny under his weight. He leapt off just in time to roll under the wildly kicking hooves of the metal beast. He grabbed one of the legs and yanked down. Apparently, the horse hadn’t expected it and let out a metal screech. The next roller coaster gained another passenger and Beppi was the one riding away, hilariously enough, towards the last sliver of sun. Cuphead snickered, he had to admit this fight wasn’t as horrible as he thought it’d be.

It was almost as if fate had heard him because the next coaster he had to dodge was far faster than usual, by quite the margin. It blazed past him, and he wondered why people were still getting on the thing. He’d have thought everyone would have left by now. What he didn’t know was that the night crowd hadn’t heard the crazy happenings or had figured them part of a new show. Those people were now deeply sorry. From below, rose a frankly far too massive to be any kind of natural _thing._ Cuphead noted the fact that it was indeed Beppi and got the urge to break something. It was unfair that every person they fought was taller, had an array of things to make fighting them annoying, and apparently had no problem attacking fragile things. Oh sure, he wasn’t truly fragile, but still, it was rude and mean and uncalled for.

Cuphead leapt up onto a platform that was either a part of Beppi or a part of the thing he was hopefully possessing. He was fairly certain it was a horrible rendition of his favorite ride too, he loved the flying one. Such a horrible use of his favorite ride could not go unforgiven, and so, tossing niceties aside, Cuphead bent the pole of one swing until the metal it was made of broke clean in half. Beppi had a look of awe and horror.

“Boy that’s a real strong arm you got there.” Beppi laughed, though, for the first time, it was truly nervous. Cuphead hefted the thing up like it was an inflatable bat and pulled his arm back, taking aim.

“Don’t I? I tell you what Beppi, I’ve got a real mean swing too, want to see?” Cuphead snarked, and let the thing fly as hard as he could. The slight jerk from the platform he was on meant his aim went off, and the swing smashed the track behind them. A car, emptier than before, hit the break, and flew off towards Isle three. Beppi froze, Cuphead froze, and they silently watched another cart hit the break and soar into the sky, following the other one.

“Did…are those actual people in those cars?” Cuphead weakly asked as another one broke away, off following the nightmares of the figures trapped on the ride. Beppi nodded only once, and the two watched the cars fade off into the distance.

\---0---0---0---

Now, the Phantom Express was just merrily steaming along, picking up souls to deliver to Hell, waving to less terrible people who would get sweet deals in Hell’s pits, and just doing general train things. It had figured today would be like any other, that is, until a screaming blur zipped by its face and went right into the entrance to the casino. Then another went by, and another, and then the train collided with yet another deer, and it had no time to think about the strange sight. Deer exploding all over its face took precedence.

\---0---0---0---

Down in hell, King Dice was having quite the day. First he’d learned one of the Die Houses had relocated to the bottom of the damn sea. Then he’d returned to find Wheezy trying to stomp out a small fire on the carpet. A fire, on the brand new, freshly cleaned, carpet. He had also discovered Pip and Dot had ruined _another_ chandelier—and taken out a skeleton while they were at it—and were trying to stuff the remains of both the chandelier and the skeleton under a roulette table. Putting a hand to his head, he wondered how the day could get any worse.

And then an entire roller coaster car smashed in the roof of the casino and splintered—and splattered—all over the bar area. There was screaming, there was crying, and there was now a gaping hole in his casino. He’d frozen for a few seconds, disbelief clear on his face.

“Whoo! Something worse than what I did!” Wheezy cheered, and then the second roller coaster slammed through and went zipping past King Dice and down into the track area. He heard someone shout ‘Neigh!’ in a terrified voice and then heard a crash. That was the point the Lord of Hell stormed out of his casino and angrily demanded to know what the hell was going on. The third car smashed the roof, King Dice let out a weak whine of pain, and the car put the Devil himself straight through the second floor down below to the stupid rook pillar, shattering everything. From above all the screaming and crying and sudden influx of people in Hell, King Dice heard his boss shout.

“ ** _What the actual fuck?!_** ”

King Dice felt a sob build up in his non-existent chest, and weakly leaned against a booth. A fourth car smashed down across from him, narrowly avoiding his body, but getting gore and oil and bits of rider all over his suit and face.

“My casino.” He muttered softly, mourning the loss of his decent day. From behind him, he heard Mangosteen cheer out

“It’s raining sinners!”

King Dice dearly hoped the next car would hit the man, he really did. He didn’t get his wish. He wasn’t surprised, but he was bitter.

\---0---0---0---

“Well if you weren’t doomed for hell, you sure are now!” Beppi said, oddly fine with watching the last few cars fly off to wherever they were going to end up. He’d be worried about the cost of fixing the thing and getting more cars, but that’s what Djimmi was for. Cuphead let out a weak whine, and very much hoped his brother never learned about this.

“ _Cuphead, you conveyor belt of failure.”_

Cuphead gave Beppi a rather pitiful pleading gaze and slowly turned. There stood Mugman, in his pajama’s, next to Baroness von Bon Bon, who was wielding her shotgun. Both had the exact same displeased frown and blazing eyes promising pain and torture. Beppi snapped back to his original form, letting the ride he’d taken over fall, crushing the track below. Bon Bon’s frown deepened. Cuphead landed beside Beppi, giving Mugman an apologetic smile and scuffing his shoe on the track. Mugman’s frowned deepened.

“Hey Bon Bon! Good to see you-“ Let it be said that Beppi was not stupid, and shut his mouth so fast the squeak was delayed by a full three seconds. Bon Bon had, without blinking, pulled the trigger, and a balloon that had been innocently floating by was turned to dust. The fact that she didn’t move anything else said plenty, and Beppi very slowly handed his soul contract over to Cuphead. Nothing the kid did would match up to what she was going to do. At least this way, some part of him would escape her wrath. That is, if the blue one didn’t maul the poor kid first.

“Okay look, I know it looks bad…but… uh…” Cuphead trailed off faintly, watching the wood and metal under Mugman’s feet warp and twist by some unnatural force. He took the contract, and slowly held it out as a peace offering. Mugman, without blinking, took the contract without ever looking away from Cuphead.

The two in trouble looked at each other like close friends going into a warzone would, and Inkwell was forced to look away. The people below heard the screams, but dearly hoped they’d never learn where the screams came from.

\---0---0---0---

Cuphead was honestly surprised he wasn’t dead. His body didn’t really agree, but it wasn’t in charge. Beppi had gone down squeaking like the champion clown he was, and Bon Bon had done things that Cuphead was sure would require the Djinn guy to fix. He wished he’d have that luxury. As it was, his brother wasn’t talking to him and had literally given him the cold shoulder after chewing him out. He was encased entirely from his neck down in ice that was cold, but not cold. The fact that he still had no idea how Mugman had done the other things with the fire and the banjo that had appeared from only Elder knew where would linger on his mind for centuries. His hair would hopefully regrow or be fixed by some rune he didn’t know about; or hoped he didn’t know about but was there. Electricity really was the fastest way to gain an afro, the cartoons had not been lying about that.

Mugman was back asleep and they were back in the castle. His brother had apparently learned how to teleport, that or he was so enraged his magic was just giving him what it had. If that was the case, Cuphead didn’t like Mugman’s magic, it was mean, and it clearly picked favorites. It had indeed picked a favorite. It had indeed picked Mugman. If it was tossing the skills it had for him at him to give him a full arsenal to knock some sense into Cuphead because it was funny and it could, well, only it and Inkwell would ever know.

\---0---0---0---

The next morning was no better. They were woken up by a hoard of jelly beans and presented with fully cleaned clothes. Sometime during the night, the ice had vanished and Cuphead had been swarmed before he’d had time to cheer for the newly gained freedom. Then they’d done something to him and he was out like a light. He’d never know it was Mugman who had woken up enough to once more poke his magic and get it to corral his brother before Cuphead did anything else monumentally stupid. His magic had responded by knocking the kid clean out.

Currently, the two were walking to their next target. Mugman, quite different from how he was handling his brother, had merrily thanked the castle. It cooed at him, snorted at Cuphead, and a few of the candy staff had pat Mugman on the head, given Cuphead varying looks of sympathy and humor, and waved them off.

They must have gotten side-tracked or something because instead of going for the giant bird house, they’d wandered into another mausoleum. This time the place was within the mountain. It was quite obvious, based on the shaking vase in the center and the familiar voice coming from it, that the ghost mob was back. It was evident that they thought being in a mountain made it so Mugman couldn’t do the thing he’d done before. They did not know Mugman. They did not know an irritated and angry Mugman was a creative Mugman.

They learned.

Cuphead felt slightly vindicated, now seeing proof that his brother wasn’t entirely enraged at him. Because what Mugman did to those ghosts was beyond worse than what he’d done to Cuphead. So Cuphead took that knowledge and let it soothe him just a bit.

Even so, the screams would haunt him for a while, even if the dead jerks deserved what they got.

\---0---0---0---

“I knew if I rooted around here I’d find something special for you two!” Auntie Chalice said, her presence once more casting a warm glow on the siblings and soothing Mugman’s ruffled feathers and Cuphead’s mental scarring. She waved them closer and they eagerly did as requested. They were hugged, they were doted over, they were taught a couple nifty tricks, and then filled her in on their current status. She gasped and cheered and squinted at Cuphead a couple times. At the part about the roller coaster, it was clear that she was fighting back both an urge to scold him and an urge to laugh. Ultimately, she remarked on how proud she was of them.

“You boy’s are growing up so quickly! Why, at this rate, I bet you’ll make that sorry bundle of fur and sin regret scuffling with you. Adventures always did allow for fun family bonding too~. Think of the stories you’ll be able to tell your friends!” She said, running her fingers through their hair. Neither knew how she did it, but she fixed what hadn’t settled in Cuphead’s hair, which he was quite grateful for.

“Now, I don’t want to be the reason you wind up losing this bargain, but I must warn you. Devil doesn’t play fair, so be sure not to give him or any of his followers a chance. You best be ready for any kind of trick they throw at you and return fire twice as hard. I know you can do it.” With that, and with a kiss to their foreheads, she sent them off with new skills and smiles on their faces.

\---0---0---0---

They didn’t speak while walking back to the bird house. One enjoying the morning, the other enjoying the fact that he wasn’t in trouble anymore. Well, it was more Cuphead wasn’t risking saying something wrong to trigger his brother again, on top of being content to listen to the wind rustle through the trees. The birdhouse was quite brightly colored, but it also didn’t seem to be a part of the Carnival. There weren’t as many people around, and there was the scent of medicine in the air. The brothers glanced at one another, and Cuphead knocked on the door. It was opened by a rather sickly-looking man wearing a mask, patches of feathers here and there in his flesh. The mask was also strangely lumpy and the two weren’t sure what to take in first.

The man eyed them, and then coughed into a malformed wing like arm. He groaned and the boys winced.

“Well? You got a patient for me or are you just going to gawk.” The man suddenly squawked out a few bird calls, which were answered by something behind him. He moaned in pain and rested his head on the door. Any anger Mugman had in him vanished and he reached out to send a pulse of magic through the man. The feedback was gruesome and it was clear the man knew what Mugman had done. Then again, it wasn’t hard when someone poked you and suddenly looked like they were two seconds from being sick.

“Kid, you two were those causing a ruckus earlier? Boy you sure did a number on everything. Thanks to-“ the man had to pause to violently cough into his mask, splatters of red appearing on the white fabric. “you, we have way too many patients and little supplies! But do you care about those poor birds you dragged into your selfish fight? Of course not!” He said angrily, and then he slipped and went down, only being caught at the last minute by Cuphead.

“Hey, we don’t do it on purpose! I’m pretty sure there was a fish or two that got caught up in it as well!” Cuphead said and winced when black, claw like nails scraped along his arm. He very, very carefully did not mention the people that had inadvertently been dragged into it as well. There was no way he wasn’t going to hell.

“What my brother means to say is, we’d try harder to keep animals out of the line of fire, but half the time the battle simply won’t allow it. If you need help healing, we’d be glad to lend a hand.” Mugman quickly stepped in. To prove he meant it, he let a wave of healing magic push into the debtor and repair the numerous broken, and hollow, bones. The man seemed to be half bird, half human. He gave Mugman and Cuphead a long look, but ultimately nodded. Some part of Mugman recalled reading about a type of half human half bird creature, but it escaped his memory as to what the thing was or what it could do.

“Tell you what, you fix up all the patients I currently got, and I’ll give you my contract. That’s why you’re here right? That things ruined me ever since I made the deal.” The two, glad to finally not have to fight to get a contract, readily agreed. As they stepped in, they failed to notice the odd hum that had begun to fill the air. They also didn’t notice the dark gleam in Wally’s eye, far too absorbed in figuring out where they could start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have been a tad off on the update time, but hey, It's out way faster than it could have been. Oh gee, I wonder what Wally is, who knows! Poor Beppi, bet he'll be bent out of shape for a while. At least Cuphead didn't almost die this time! That's certainly a bit of improvement. As for the people on the cars, they took the super hell express. Imagine dying with your face mashed into the Devil's fur, that can't have been fun.


	11. Warbles and firefights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally tries his hand at revenge, Grim flies in, and we get a peek back in the casino. Which, considering it's new holey state, isn't hard.

It had been half an hour since the boys started trying to help Wally out. Though Cuphead was fairly useless, he was fine with it. There was something nudging at his mind, telling him to be careful of Wally. Sure, he originally thought it was common sense, but as he watched Mugman give him that one glance, he knew it was something different. They’d easily repaired hollow bones and torn feathers. The sick birds, Mugman could do nothing about, but Wally, who was following them at a strange distance, didn’t seem to mind. There was one other bird in the home, a full bird too, this one was waddling around with a clipboard in his mouth. According to Wally, that was his son. The brothers, unsure of just what else they were needed for, were currently helping ensure the newly healed birds could fly once more.

“Red child, could you get that medicine up on that shelf over there.” Wally wheezed. “I need it but I don’t have the strength to reach for it.” He coughed violently, Mugman winced. Cuphead nodded and started easing himself up onto the counter below it. The counter let out an ungodly shriek and for a few moments no one moved. Deciding that if he fell he’d be caught by his brother, he shrugged and went for broke. The counter held however, though it did screech. Mugman, who’d begun reinforcing it with strength runes, wondered why something so weak wouldn’t have been fixed. Then he realized Wally, winged arms covered in an assortment of blue and red feathers, likely could barely hold a scalpel, much less a hammer.

“That… yes that one.” Wally nodded, an oddly confused dip in his brow. The mask was what was really throwing the brothers off. They couldn’t tell what Wally was thinking with half his face covered by the thing but hell if they were going to ask him to remove it. Cuphead gave the medicine over to Wally, a rattle rolling down his mechanical spine at the barely concealed glare on Wally’s face. He really didn’t want to fight, not with so many potential casualties. He was already going to be haunted by the roller coaster incident, he didn’t need any more like it. He decided the second he saw the contract he was going for it. Mugman would back him. The two were wasting time at this point.

“Blue bird, could you move that bed a bit to the side,” Wally gestured with one wing to a bed in the center of the large home. “There’s a door leading to my basement there and I need something.” While he had a coughing fit, Cuphead finally realized there was indeed a humming in the air. He guessed it was from one of the birds, but the thing in him told him to zip it and not ask questions. The thing that only seemed to be around when Mugman was around too. He _knew_ there was a reason he called Mugman his impulse control. Mugman nodded slowly and began pushing at the bed though it was evident he was seconds from speaking up.

“Okay, this is a tad odd, what could help the birds down here?” Mugman asked. Cuphead, seeing the green light for what it was, followed through.

“Yeah and what’s that annoying humming sound? Did you have a broken radio in here or something?” Honestly, he wanted to ask more, Wally had been asking them to do increasingly stupid things but the humming was getting on his nerves.

“Annoying? Excuse you, I’ll have you…yes. Yes, it’s a broken radio.” Wally couldn’t have worded it more poorly. Mugman, more for his own humor than anything else, heaved the bed away from the door, clipping the bird that had been sneaking up behind him in the knees and sending him toppling onto the bed behind him.

“Are you trying to ambush us? I’ll tell you what good sir, if you wanted to surprise us you should have asked the magpies to stage an assault. Somewhere out there is a corpse with a nasty scar on his skull from a magpie divebombing him.” Cuphead, one eyebrow raised, tossed in the polite towel and yanked the good old sarcasm blanket out. Mugman snorted and hefted up the rather clunky door. The hinges shrieked, covering the stuttering from Wally and the angry bird noises from Wally junior.

“Oh there are bones Cuphead! There are… so many bones.” Mugman said, with all the surprise of a factory worker seeing a co-worker lose a finger to the machine of the day. Exactly zero surprise, so little surprise in fact that it overpowered all actual surprise in the room and negated any and all shock.

“It’s for the vultures!” Wally Junior shouted angrily. His feathers fluffed up. Mugman cooed at that, he’d seen so many scary things in the last day that a bird turning into a cotton ball of feathers didn’t scare him at all.

“Okay what is the deal here. I’ve been using my siren song this entire time! You should be mindless by now!” Wally asked, ripping off the mask and exposing his contorted mouth. His teeth were black and pointed like the beak of a bird. Each tooth curved like a beak too, tipped with various colors suggesting various bird beak types.  Now, the boys could have taken the low road and poked fun at his teeth. They could have and did indeed have various dentist jokes lined up. Instead Mugman focused on what Wally said while trying to figure out how to close the door without crushing Wally Junior’s little bird toes.

“Wait, siren? What do sirens have to do with this?” He asked, and Cuphead, who Mugman decided was actually a great brother, followed up.

“Yeah I don’t see any fish ladies in here. Unless they’re in the-“

“First of all you little worms, those aren’t sirens! Do I look like I’d need stupid fins to use my amazing voice? Second of all, fish are horrible and only good for feeding water fowl, so the fact that you’re trying to call me, a Siren hybrid, a freaking fish, is insulting. It’s more insulting than you not being affected by my song!” Wally stomped his clawed feet. Mugman, having spotted the thing they’d been looking for in the basement, gave an awkward cough. Cuphead heard it and took the cue.

“Are you sure? Because I heard that sirens were fish ladies that sang sailors to their doom. Is this actually a boat house? How rich are you? How are we supposed to know you don’t have scales under those feathers? Are you sure you’re not a harpy? If you really are a siren, and sirens are bird ladies, are you actually a lady? Because if so, I’m real sorry, I thought you were a fella. But also, are you telling me you’ve been trying to lure a couple of kids to do stupid things? Did I actually need to count the number of red robins in this building? You’re really telling me you’ve just been having me and Mugs do stupid things for kicks?” He made sure he asked the questions he guessed would distract the two the most. Wally Junior was seething behind him, annoyed his intimidation attempt had been useless. Wally himself just stared at Cuphead, jaw uselessly hanging open for any bug to take as invitation.

“Well, okay so here’s the difference.” Wally finally got his jaw working and immediately went about defending himself. “Sirens are basically singing harpies. We’re far cooler than them. No, I’m a male, it was a deal I made with that land-walking wench with a pitchfork. I wanted to be more like a bird, there was a siren that had apparently annoyed his dame, and he needed to get rid of  it so here we are.  No, whoever started that stupid rumor about mermaids having pretty voices was a liar and I aim to peck their eyes out. I bet it was that Cala broad out there on Isle three. Swimmy tart she is, acting like it’s a sin for birds to eat fish.” Wally grumbled. He would have continued, but that was when Wally Junior noticed what Mugman was crawling out of the basement with. Wally Junior let out an ungodly shriek, the birds still in the hut flapped aggressively, and Mugman panicked.

He reached for the nearest lamp, swung it at the floor while shouting “Scatter!” and shoved the contract in his rune while diving out the window behind the bed. Cuphead ripped a cabinet full of bandages from the wall, flung it as lightly as he could at Wally, and just broke a Cuphead shaped hole in the wall next to him. The birds around the room started screaming, Wally started screaming, Wally Junior got the remote control.

\---0---0---0---

Mugman rejoined Cuphead as soon as Cuphead was out of the house. The two broke into a sprint, getting flashbacks to Baroness, and hoping Wally couldn’t wield a shotgun with no fingers. Inkwell only gave them a quick jolt of warning before birds with nails strapped to their heads began dive bombing them. Mugman put up a barrier, entirely unable to fathom what he was seeing, and it fell to Cuphead.

“Oh, so Elder blows up a few birds on _accident_ and he’s worse than Devil, but Wally sticks nails onto bird’s heads with rubber bands and he’s a practical saint! I’m telling you Mugs, I don’t feel bad about this one.” Cuphead grumbled, watching another hail of birds plink off the sides of the barrier. Mugman snorted.

Tired of birds trying to nail them, Mugman reached into his magic with a question of visibility. His magic readily answered and after a few more minutes the brothers stopped in a clearing. They waited a few more minutes, listening to Wally scream angrily in the distance, and then Mugman dropped the barrier and chameleon spell. The brothers tried to laugh quietly, not wanting to attract Wally’s attention.

“Okay let’s be honest, that was the easiest contract of the lot of them.” Cuphead nudged his brothers elbow and the two listened to Wally Junior shriek off to their left.

“I’m glad we lost them,” Mugman said after he’d finished laughing. “I’m not sure what could be worse than being chased by birds with nails on their heads.” There was a swoosh to his right, and Mugman noted that the space Cuphead had been a moment ago was suddenly empty. Then he noted the large shadow and the vibrant flash of green above him and watched a dragon carry his sibling towards a tower barely peeking over the mountain range the brothers had been behind. It was also around this time a bird sounded an alarm and the sounds of Wally and Wally Junior began to grow closer.

Had Mugman been Cuphead, he would have torn a tree out of the ground and tried to knock the dragon out of the air with it. Had the brother in blue been the brother in red, he’d have punched Wally out to shut the man up and tied Wally Junior around a branch using the birds’ arms. Mugman was not Cuphead, and though he was readily sure he had a spell that would drag the dragon from the sky, he had other ideas. The brother in blue was indeed not the brother in red, and so, when Wally appeared, he didn’t punch him out. He instead froze Wally in place, easily catching Wally Junior as well, and got to spinning a web with words that would have impressed King Dice had he been there.

\---0---0---0---

Cuphead however, had no such wordsmithing skill, as such, he just stared off into the distance, wondering just when his life became something that included dragons. The massive claw wrapped around him was scaly and cold and the nails were pointy but oddly gentle. He would have spoken up or torn the paw clean off but he really didn’t think Mugman would be able to catch him. So, he sat back for the ride, watching the tower grow closer and closer. Funnily enough he swore that the debtor paper had pointed towards this tower.

Once he was rather politely placed on the wide floor of the tower he got a good look at the potential debtor. Cuphead had always dreamed of seeing dragons. Of course, this was when he was alive with flesh and had wielded a stick for a sword. He’d gotten his brother to put on a dress and had saved Mugman from the evil gecko that lived in their backyard. Sure, the gecko had launched at his face and made him cry and hide behind Mugman but the point stood. That being said, if this was a debtor, he knew he couldn’t just tear the dragon apart, the guy might wind up being like the root pack. Innocent, a victim of poor word choice.

“Oh! Oh goodness you aren’t Baroness!” The dragon, looking as surprised as he sounded, stared at Cuphead. Slowly, a red flush began to bloom across his face and an impressively long tail wrapped around, covering the dragon’s face. Cuphead jerked back, an affronted glare on his face.

“What part of me looks like Auntie Bon Bon?!” He wildly gestured to his pants and white hair.

“Well…” The dragon, who, oddly enough, was shrinking in size paused to uncover his face and look at Cuphead again. “You both wear red!” He said after a moment’s pause, and finally, after going from towering dragon, he stopped transforming. Cuphead, who had faced off against a Djinn, an inflatable clown, a cake woman, a flower thing, and so on, really wasn’t impressed. The former dragon had green scales all over his skin in patches, the rest of his skin was a light olive toned tan. He still had a tail, the haunches, and the feet of a dragon, but his torso, arms, and head were human enough.

“Red. You saw red and thought ‘yeah that must be her.’” Cuphead deadpanned, unimpressed even more. The dragon man flushed a bright red once more and buried his head in his hands.

“It’s hard to see from so high up!” The man spoke into his hands. Though muffled, he could still hear the indignation, embarrassed as it was. Cuphead took the chance to look over the paper he still had and was proven correct. There was a debtor by the name of Grim Matchstick directly in front of him. Even so, he _really_ didn’t feel like fighting a dragon so he wondered how he’d get the guy to introduce himself.

“Besides, that’s the same shade of… Did you say ‘Auntie’? Are you related to her? I didn’t know she had a sister!” The man, Grim, forgot his embarrassment just as soon as Cuphead found his own.

“Don’t you dare tell her I called her that!” Cuphead put up one hand in a threatening gesture, suddenly very glad Mugman wasn’t here. Then he remembered Mugman and his embarrassment went right out the window. Forget being nice, if he learned that his brother was injured by the bird-brained duo from hell, he was going to use this tower like a baseball bat and make a space dragon out of Grim.

“Oh, oh gosh this is a terrible introduction, I just, I was worried when Baroness didn’t show for our picnic, and I guess I got a bit impatient too.” Grim spoke up, clearly reaching to find some way to change the subject. Though, evidently, he wasn’t afraid of the threat. “My name is Grim Matchstick, what’s yours Mr. Red?”

“Cuphead, look I’m real sorry but you sort of kidnapped me while me and my brother were running from that Wally guy. My brother is real weak and-“ The flapping of wings, rather large ones, interrupted him and the two in the tower turned to face the source.

“Goodness Cuphead, I’m not a damsel!” Mugman slid off of Wally’s back, and politely thanked him. Wally laughed and pat him on the head with a wing. Mugman adjusted his cap and slyly looked at his brother from the corner of his eye. “After all, I wasn’t the one kidnapped by a dragon.” The teasing note in Mugman’s voice sent a flush of cherry red across Cuphead’s face and he scowled.

“I wasn’t the one that wore a dress back when we were little kids!”

“I’ll have you know I didn’t mind wearing those dresses. I did mind wearing a screaming big brother because a tiny gecko stuck his tongue out.”

It was at this point that Wally and Grim decided to step back into the conversation.

“Anyway, I’m terribly sorry about trying to turn you into decorative homes for the baby birds, I had no idea you were collecting contracts so you could fight Devil!” Wally said cheerfully. Grim perked up at that and looked at Cuphead.

“You’re collecting soul contracts to fight that furry fella? Well gosh that’s a coincidence! Here! If that’s really what you’re doing, take mine. I used to be a shape shifter with all sorts of animals and people under my belt. Then I got it in my mind that the best shape shifter in the world would have some sort of idea on how I could expand to fantasy creatures. It turns out he did, but he took away everything else I had. I don’t mind it too much, but I miss being a real act in the carnival.” Grim said, and from under a tile he pulled out his soul contract and handed it over. Cuphead stared at his brother in dumb shock. Mugman, as soon as the other two in the room were focused on each other, sent a look at his brother that clearly said ‘zip it until later or I’m seeing if I have the ability to turn porcelain siblings into teacups’. Cuphead wisely snapped his jaw shut.

“Of course!” Mugman spoke up. “We are under a bit of a time limit, but yes! We’re on a mission to put the nightmare of all who wear white so far under that Hell itself won’t be able to find him!” He said it with such conviction that for a moment even Cuphead believed him. Then he remembered this was the same kid that cried for three hours and made their mom and dad hold a funeral for a bunny they’d found run over on the side of the road near their house. Their dad later ran over the popsicle grave marker with the mower and spent two hours trying to get Mugman’s forgiveness. He idly wondered if the grave was still there, or if their parents were even still in that house. Before he could go too deep into less happy thoughts, the knowledge that his brother had essentially declared a desire to fight the current owner of their soul contract punted the other thoughts away with due force.

“Thank you, Mr. Wally, We really must get going though, we’ve still got seven souls left I believe.” Mugman continued, taking a step towards the small entrance into the tower they were on. Grim perked up and his tail whipped out, suddenly far longer.

“Oh goodness, I can help there! Wally can only carry one. I’ll get you down right quick! Just start listing names and I’ll try and drop you off as close as I can get.” With that, Grim grew in size, returning to the form of a dragon. His hindquarters dangled out of the tower, clawed toes digging into the walls to secure himself. Wally once more pat Mugman on the head, well aware Grim was right. He was also eager to get back to his son, so with one mighty beat of his wings, he was off.

“Well, we still have a Cala Maria, a Rumor Honeybottoms, Captain Brineybeard, Phantom Express…Dr. Kahl, Sally Stageplay and Wally Warbles.” Cuphead listed all the ones that didn’t have a checkmark while Mugman gained stars in his eyes and looked over Grim with amazement. Honestly Mugman had thought to be hostile towards Grim, but his brother was fine, they even had the soul contract, and they didn’t have to fight the shape shifter for it. Therefore, he decided to store it in his blackmail folder for later use.

“Oh! Oh I know Rumor Honeybottoms! She’s not that great if she thinks you’re trying to go after her honey. But I can drop you off outside her door if you really want. Isle Three is a real fun place, real big though, the locals should be able to help you if you get lost.” Grim, who’d been a bit distracted, preening for Mugman as he was, registered a name he knew and spoke up before Cuphead even had a chance to look up from the paper.  Grim extended his head through the tower to the other side and the brothers took that as their queue to hop on.

Mugman, who had opened his mouth with a teasing look growing on his face, was shoved on first by Cuphead. Cuphead hopped on immediately after and gave Mugman a glare, daring him to speak up. Mugman gave a friendly hum, and a moment later, Grim pulled back and he was off. The boys watched the land below them with glee, they noted another die shaped house blocking what looked like the only entrance to the next isle and were suddenly even more glad for Grim. They really didn’t want to run into that King Dice fellow.

\---0---0---0---

Had the brothers entered the Die House, they never would have run into the manager. He was far too busy trying to coordinate a cleanup of the Casino. Despite being owned by the Devil, it couldn’t magically repair itself. They were still pulling bits of roller coaster car out of everything. The Tipsy trio were absolutely zero help with much of anything except listing liquor casualties. Mangosteen had created another hole in the roof when he’d tried to throw the cars back out, which had earned him a trip to the shame corner, courtesy of King Dice. Mr.Wheezy had tried to burn up the wooden cars, forgetting they were on carpet.

He was placed on top of Mangosteen in the shame corner.

Mr. Chimes just banged his cymbals in glee until King Dice had stormed over, a poisonous green gleam in his eye promising agony the likes of which not even Devil could manage. Pirouletta was gracefully going about cleaning her area. She would have been making adequate time were it not for Hopus Pocus magically putting stuff from his stage onto her tables. King Dice refused to help Hopus untangle himself from the curtains. They became the shame curtains, and Hopus would stay there until Pirouletta deemed him properly shamed. Pip and Dot kept getting distracted by the imps, and it was at the moment when another chandelier nearly crushed King Dice that he lost it.

\---0---0---0---

The ride was smooth and easy, the landing was less so. Grim wound up half sprawled across a couple taller buildings rooftops. He certainly hadn’t been lying about getting as close as possible. The boys thanked him, and then Cuphead promptly dragged his brother down through the building, down to the street below, waited for Grim to fly away, and then turned to his brother.

“Are you kidding me? I thought, out of the both of us, _I’d_ be the one to say something that stupid! What if he can hear us Mugs? You can’t just proclaim to the world that we’re going to take on Devil!” Cuphead hissed, trying to keep his voice down just in case. Mugman looked rather surprised, he tilted his head and shrugged.

“Brother, I figure Devil hears that so often he stopped caring about those kinds of things. Besides, I think if he were listening, half the things you’ve said about him would have had him stringing you up by your shoelaces by now.” Mugman explained. Cuphead, mouth open to refute him, paused.

“Well… I guess you’re right. Hey, you think he has a chalkboard or something where he keeps tallies of all the things said about him?”

\---0---0---0---

Devil, fully recovered-- being king of hell was great for speedy recoveries-- idly chalked down another mark onto the large tally board behind him. He was reclined in his large chair, comfortably listening to the clamor outside the safety of his office. Being hit by an entire roller coaster car had hurt like crazy, but he was proud he’d only cried for an hour. He thought about going out to help, but then figured that he was the Devil and therefore didn’t need to help. He decided right that moment, twirling the piece of chalk in his hand, that he’d let his manager handle it. Of course, that was the second his door was slammed open by said manager. Said manager who had red tear marks from where Devil had cried on his suit, smears of dust across his cheeks, and a look on his face that made Hell curl back.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?!” King Dice hissed out, malice dripping from every syllable.

“What? I’m-“

“Wasting time doing nothing! Now put that damn piece of chalk down and _get out here and help.”_ Had King Dice been anyone else, they’d have been smote on the spot. It was actually rather well-known Devil hated anyone that so much as rolled their eyes at him. King Dice, however, was special. Or, more specifically, he was the sole being to have the Devil’s heart. As such, he was _not_ smote, or turned into a gruesome mess of flesh—not that there was much to work with, considering the lack of flesh on King Dice—or even roasted. Instead Devil puffed up his fur, puffed out his chest, and gazed at the man across from him.

“King, come on! This is great team building for you and the other lackeys!” Devil said, his puffing up mostly to appear grander to King Dice and more confident. King Dice however, stared at Devil in a way that had Devil’s pitchfork hopping right out the back door, straight into hell. Evidently, it was not willing to help out.

“Boss… If you _ever_ want to so much as get a kiss on the cheek from me, _you will go out there **and clean your damn casino.**_ I don’t need team building, I need a working casino and, oddly enough, roller coaster cars punching holes through the roof like its’ made of cardboard _sort of mucks up everything._ ” King Dice, tired, uncaring of who he was talking to, strode right up and slammed his hands down on the desk. Devil heard kiss and perked right up.

“Wait, so if I fix this place up you’ll give me a kiss?” He said, taking his feet off the desk and leaning over it to get closer to his lovely, and entirely angry manager. King Dice took an unnecessary but deep breath, let it out slowly, and smoothly glided around the desk to stand at Devil’s right side.

“Boss,” He said, voice low and sultry. “If you fix up the casino, back to how it was before the roller coaster ruined it, not only will I kiss you, I’ll go on a full date with you.” He gave Devil a look so smooth Devil felt the skin under his fur flush a vivid red. “Why.” King Dice continued, leaning on Devil’s shoulder and sliding one gloved hand along his boss’s arm, playing with the fur. “I’ll even let you pick the spot, and if you fix it before those two kids get here, I’ll let you pick what I wear for the date.” He moved close enough that his lips brushed the bright red tips of Devil’s ears. Had he been a lesser man, the sight of Devil’s tail wagging hard enough to shake the chair Devil was in would have made him laugh. He wasn’t, so he just laughed internally. Before Devil could turn to face his manager, King Dice pulled away and Devil whined.

“But! If you don’t get it done by then, you’ll have to wait a hundred years before I’ll even consider going on a single outing alone with you.” The sultry look vanished and a hard one replaced it. A look that made it clear King Dice intended to follow through with that deal. Devil leapt up, nearly knocking over the pile of papers on his desk in his haste to stand.

“But what if they die and pop up here? That could be any minute now!” He said, almost whining. King Dice turned to leave but did pause to twist his head and glance at Devil out the corner of his eye.

“Well then boss, you better get started. Remember, back the way it was, no shortcuts or cheap replacements. If I were you, I’d get to it.” He replied, then with a graceful flourish, he was gone. Devil flopped back down onto his chair, his heart beating madly in his chest. The arm and shoulder King Dice leaned on tingled with warmth, the feeling of King Dice’s lips still clear on his ear. The trident peeked out from the back door and slithered over until it stood firmly by his left side.

“A date.” Devil muttered under his breath, taking in the deal he’d been given. “I… A real date with him.” Devil looked and sounded like a man whose idol had fallen over in their lap and proclaimed their love of him. Disbelief and awe battling it out for supremacy on his face and in his voice. A short intake of breath later he was standing on his desk, papers flying everywhere, and screeching to the heavens.

“A date! I got a date!” He cheered, his pitchfork gave a supportive glow.

“You won’t if you don’t kick your fluffy ass into gear!” Came the muffled reply of his manager, evidently still close enough to hear him. Devil flushed a vivid red but the dopey smile remained on his lips. He scampered off his desk, snatched up his pitch fork, and hauled his furry behind out the door, a bounce in his step not seen for ages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sirens were originally bird women, not fish women. I have no idea when that was changed, but that's what they were. If you guessed any other bird creature, I'm not surprised. Yes, Grim was indeed a shape shifter, but his need to do even more grand things inspired him to try asking the devil for tips. Instead he was given the shortest straw of the group and is now stuck between half dragon and full dragon. Now, evidently, Mugman should not ever be left alone with the debtors, he collects them and gains their favor far more easily than Cuphead thinks he should. I could have done the casino scene the way it was in game, but the game didn't feature a casino suddenly loaded with ten or so roller coaster cars full/carrying sinners. Which is a shame because I had an idea for the "don't blow your wig" line Devil says to King Dice. King Dice really is lucky, had anyone else tried yelling at Devil like he does, their pelt would be draped across Devil's back wall like a trophy. Anyway, Rumor is next up!


	12. Split Decisions, Split Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers split up and take on two bosses. Surprisingly, no one dies.

The brothers looked at the list, and then looked at the sky. The sun was ambling its way up, nearing noon. They had seven more people to go after, with no idea how long the fights would take or if they’d even have to fight or do something menial like they’d done with Wally. It was Mugman that threw out the first idea.

“I know that it’s generally frowned upon, and Elder, and even I, have said doing so is bad… but I think we should split up.” He tapped the tip of his noise, peeking up at his brother from behind the brim of his hat. Unsurprisingly, Cuphead was staring at him like he’d lost it. Cuphead opened and closed his mouth, many aborted starts dying at the tip of his tongue. So Mugman hastily continued.

“No I know! But, brother, what if we run out of time, we’d have done all this for nothing. And I’m not even kind of proficient at any sort of time manipulation magic. So why don’t we just… I’ll go after this one,” He pointed to the building behind him, Rumor Honeybottoms’ den. “You can take on another one, like, oh! Captain Brineybeard. He sounds like a pirate! You’ve always wanted to see one!” The list crumpling in Cuphead’s tightening grip was angled so that was the only name he could see.

“And leave you to potentially get swarmed and beat up by whatever is in there? Mugs, we have no idea what she’s like. That is one hell of a swanky building! For all we know your level of fancy is how strong you are! That’s what it seems to be with that King Dice guy.” Cuphead violently gestured in the direction he figured the casino was in. Mugman pouted at him, eyes doleful and pleading.

“Cuphead, I got us the contract from Djimmi the great, I didn’t die when you got snatched up by Grim Matchstick and Wally found me. You’re the only one that’s really come close to dying so far, and I knocked death around with…you know that’s not important, what is important-“

“Wait hold on, that wasn’t a fever dream? You really took on Death? That was Death?! This whole time I was debating if it was a figment of my imagination or not but no!”

“Cuphead we don’t have time for this! Look just go fight the pirate guy, I’ll get this done and you’ll get your stuff done and neither of us will die and it will be fine!” Mugman pushed Cuphead in the direction of the docks, assuming that would be where Brineybeard hid. Then he darted for the entrance to the gleaming gold building and before Cuphead could close his mouth Mugman was gone. He had half a mind to go after his sibling, then realized Mugman was correct. Thus far it really was only him that had come truly close to dying again. Heaving out a nervous sigh, he uncrumpled the paper and trudged off to the docks. He mentally swore that if he came back and his brother was dead he’d destroy everything in his path until he could drag his brothers’ soul back and smack him.

\---0---0---0---

The inside was just as golden as the outside of the high-rise. It bordered on tacky, at least to Mugman. He looked around, only now realizing that he had no way to tell which person in the building was Rumor Honeybottoms.  He assumed she’d be someone high ranking, but how he’d get to meet her he had no clue. He didn’t really want to try sneaking his way up, not when the workers he could see, including the security guard, looked not quite human. For all he knew they could sense magic, and magic could agitate them. Sure, he had magic for days, magic that – thus far—proven more than capable of obliterating hostile enemies. Those ghosts didn’t even know what hit them, but then Mugman didn’t either. Magic roulette was entertaining but didn’t help him learn the extent of what it could achieve, just that, when allowed, it was excessively and brutally efficient.

Pacifist by nature, down to his soul, he didn’t want to blaze his way through if he didn’t have to. Mugman stuck close to the entrance while he tried to figure something out. Had his brother been here, he knew Cuphead would have just punched his way around until he found their target. Of course had he been there they’d have the sheet and would be a bit better off on finding her. Bunching his shirt in a nervous grip, he finally spotted his answer. He quickly read the poster hanging by the door, and just about sighed with relief, it was perfect. Steeling himself and maintaining his harmless appearance, he carefully made his way to the front desk.

The woman behind it looked up from what she had been doing, though what that was, Mugman couldn’t tell. She got one good look at him—a small, delicate looking, clearly harmless, adorable child—and cooed. Her pitch-black eyes, clear of the honey-blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun, drank in the demure posture and sweet expression Mugman was giving her.

“What are you here for little one?” She leaned over the desk so she could get a better look at him. He beamed at her, smile brighter than teeth in a toothpaste ad. Though she got a clear look at his eyes, and saw that they weren’t human, he was projecting nothing but innocence. Besides, if he was made out of what he seemed to be, he very likely was harmless. Living dolls were well known to be extensively fragile and more interested in observing than antagonizing.

“Excuse me, miss. I noticed the poster you have on the wall, that one about the tour. I’ve always been curious as to how honey is made and I was wondering when the next tour was?” He asked her, his voice equally young. She returned his smile with one of her own, though not as bright, and waved one of the security guards over. He strode over, steps sure, heels clicking on the tile floor.

“This little one got a gander at the tour offer, would you be so kind as to take him on it?” She asked him, her voice a tad more professional when addressing the guard. He quirked a brow at Mugman, who gave him a shy wave, and nodded.

“Sure thing, give him a visitor pass and we’ll start the tour.” He said in a gruff but kind way. She dutifully handed a plastic covered card hanging from a lanyard over to Mugman and waved him off. Mugman sent her another dazzling smile before eagerly following the guard like a duckling. The door leading into the central building was pulled open by the other guard stationed there and she heard the guard, now guide, start describing basic facts about their business. She and the other workers in the area found it adorable how the child focused and hung on every word the guide said. They so did love children enthusiastic to learn.

\---0---0---0---

“So in case you weren’t aware, honey comes from bee’s. Our building acts as a house for nearly one hundred thousand of them.” The guide explained, pausing to let Mugman take in the factory. Though, it really wasn’t much of one, at least not on this floor. Instead, a massive garden full of exotic island flowers sprawled out all the way across the floor. Workers darted around much like the staggering number of bees filling the air with a high-pitched buzz. “Each floor is dedicated to a specific type of flower location. This one, for instance, is for island flower honey. Do you see the walls? Those are their hives. Behind these walls we have special struts that allow the bees to build their honeycombs and we take them out once they’re full.” He guided Mugman over to one of the hives currently being handled and let the boy watch the worker shave the honey from the comb in one smooth motion.

It was times like these that made Mugman direly wish he could eat. His soul ached to try the rich treat, but the last time he tried to sneak a lick of some hadn’t ended well for the gears and tubing in his throat. The worker did not help his restraint. They dipped a wooden stick into the honey and offered it to him. His will weak, he desperately asked his magic if it could handle cleaning gears, then didn’t bother letting it answer before accepting it and nearly collapsing from the taste. He mumbled a truly heartfelt thanks to the worker and the guide, both of whom were giving him amused smiles. His magic, pulling some complicated rearranging, managed to make it so the gears were safe, but the honey wound up sliding into the liquid that surrounded his soul. The soul greedily sucked it in transforming the honey into pure soul liquid.

Mugman felt a bit more energetic after that taste, his eyes glowed a bit brighter and his mood perked right up. Something within his soul told him he couldn’t do that kind of thing often, or with large quantities, but tiny amounts wouldn’t kill or hurt him. It also couldn’t do that to solid foods, only liquids, which was a shame considering Cuphead’s cookie addiction. After thanking the worker, and listening to the worker explain what beeswax was, the guide pulled him away and they headed for the stairs. Mugman was lead up the stairs, taking in the various gardens. The rooms with trees really piqued his interest. He was informed that when the trees grew too big, they were removed and shipped out to various orchards.

“Every kind of honey from clover to wildflower to orange blossom is made here. We pride ourselves in giving the bees the best environment possible while ensuring they come to no harm from outside conditions, unlike that shoddy company on the north side.” The guide gestured to the tiny creatures buzzing about merrily. At some point, the bees had become interested in Mugman and he’d found himself wearing a bee-shirt. He was never more relieved to be made of porcelain than in that instance. So busy trying to pay attention to the bees on him and the guide—who was exactly zero help—he failed to notice a tall and sharply dressed woman approach him from behind. Her amused laughter did get his attention, and he watched the guide politely address the woman.

“Oh Ms. Honeybottoms! It’s wonderful to see you out of the office, we’re just taking a tour.” He said, motioning towards Mugman. Mugman carefully twisted his head until he could fully take in what he really hoped was the only Honeybottoms in the building. She was taller than him by at least a foot. Her hazel eyes were focused on the numerous bees covering him but when they did finally look at him, they weren’t unkind. She held out one of her hands and took one of his, dark skin contrasting sharply with his bright white porcelain.

“I’m terribly sorry Ma’am. I’d give you a proper greeting but…” He gave her a sheepish grin, and she returned it with a cool-- but not unfriendly-- smile of her own.

“No need child, I thank you for being cautious about my little darlings. Give me but a moment and they’ll be off.” She spoke, her voice a rich alto. He watched in surprise as with a wave of her hand and swirling motions from her fingers, the bees detached from him and buzzed around her, following her finger a bit before dispersing. She returned her focus to him and in turn he shifted to fully face her.

“I’m Rumor Honeybottoms, Queen of this fine factory. You can call me Ms. Honeybottoms. How are you liking the tour thus far? I trust you’ve been given a sample?” She glanced at the guide for an answer. The man nodded, a smug grin on his face.

“Just about melted like beeswax he did. This little one’s been doing nothing but listen and mind his manners.” The guide said, patting him on the shoulder. Mugman was now at a loss. He’d found Rumor Honeybottoms, but she looked the most human out of every single one of them they’d seen. She looked more human than even her workers. Not only this, but Mugman was now deep in potential enemy territory with not a single clue on how to even sort of approach getting her contract. He wondered if it was in her office and if there was a way to get there.

“Uh, Ms. Honeybottoms, I had a question.” He started, mind scrambling for something. “I was wondering how you get the trees and flowers to grow indoors like this. I thought you needed all sorts of things to do that.” He glanced at the room they were currently in, one five floors up, full of various colorful flowers. She gestured for the guide to head back down and began leading him up the stairs once more.

“Well honey, you should be able to tell, what with your body and all being what it is.” She held up one hand and a dark violet glow wrapped around her flesh. “Magic. Speaking of, its rather rare to see your kind wandering about. What brought you here?” She rested one hand on his shoulder, forcing him to keep pace beside her and holding his attention.

“Oh, well, I suppose I was always a bit curious about how things were made. It was never explicitly said that I had to stay in one place, so I wander around.” He spoke, well-mannered smile and body language out in full force.

“Really now? You know they say, curiosity killed the cat. Tell me little honey, how curious are you?” She asked, her face unreadable, he swore he heard a strange buzzing sound that was too low pitched to be from the bees.

“Uh, well gosh I’ve never been asked that before, but I know that the rest of that phrase is that satisfaction brought it back. Might I ask what that question was for?” He got a sinking feeling in his chest at the odd turn of events. Her hand tightened on his shoulder and she stopped walking, the room they were in was what had to be where they processed and cleaned the honey. The air was saturated with it and there were numerous bath tub sized tanks. The two were currently on a catwalk overlooking the vats.

“Honey, a bee sees many things. But you don’t have to be a bee to see two high flyers an isle over making a buzz. Even if I hadn’t seen that, I’d have known what you were really here for. You see, I’m not just Queen of this building and all the hives in it, oh no. _I’m Queen of the path leading to Hell._ ” She gave him a horrifying grin and he felt all hope for a peaceful interaction die an agonizing death.

“Would… Would it make you feel any better to know I really did want to know and see how honey was made?” He asked hesitantly, giving her a weak smile. She laughed and let go of his shoulder, he knew why when he saw guards barricading the doors.

“Only enough for me to promise you a nice trip back down. I’ve seen your soul boy, yours and your brothers. I know you’ve returned like a cat, and I know you’ve been sent out by the Lord of Hell. Now I may not be that Phantom Express, but the ticket I’ll be punching for you will guarantee a smooth ride right on back to the Devil. I’d love to just let you go…but if I did, that would be risking my bees and my honey, and that’s something I’m not willing to do.” She told him, even as her hands crackled with the darkly colored magic once more.

“This isn’t going to be a pleasant experience… is it?” He said in a way that was more resigned statement than question.

“For you? No, no it isn’t.”

\---0---0---0---

Cuphead, looking up at the ship that he’d _finally_ managed to find docked away from all the other boats docked in the harbor, felt glee build up in his soul. The ship was gorgeous, a bright candy apple red hull with clean white sails towering high above him. He wondered why it wasn’t with the other ships, mostly because that was the reason he hadn’t been able to find the damn thing. Shrugging, guessing he’d get an answer if he was lucky enough, he headed onto the dockside where the ship was tied. He had no idea how he was going to approach this thing. He bet if Mugman was there, the blue brother would have a plan of action formed and ready to go. Cuphead, ever one for just going at it, reasoned it couldn’t hurt to look at the ship for a minute while he thought up a course of action.

He could try blowing a hole in the ship, well aware he had the strength to do so, but then how would he get the contract from the bottom of the ocean. He wondered if he could just storm the ship like a pirate would, but then he’d have to race through, it also still put a healthy risk to the ship. He had yet to see any crew members but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. He stared at the ship, listening to it creak.

“Aye, she’s a beautiful gal isn’t she?” A scratchy and impressively robust voice scared him enough that he shrieked and fell off the box he’d sat himself down on. He winced, sitting up as booming laughter rolled like thunder above him. The huge man with an impressive black beard continued snorting and guffawing at him. He gave the man an unimpressed glower and hefted himself back up.

“Oh the ship is, the captain, I’m guessing you, less so.” Cuphead groused, crossing his arms across his chest, maintaining the dirty glower. The man sucked in a few deep breaths to stop laughing and rolled heavy shoulders in a casual shrug.

“Well I’m a pirate, boy. I’m not supposed to be pretty. That’s for the lasses on shore and the wooden one right there.” The man, evidently the captain since he didn’t correct Cuphead proudly gestured to his grand ship.

“She’s faster than any of those fancy metal ones mucking up the waters and she’s led me true for years. I’ll be damned if I let her glory fade. If that means pinching a few oh…tidings we’ll say, from merchant ships that just _happen_ t’ cross our path, I’m not going to let morals stop me. Speaking of, what are ye doing here besides admiring my ship?” The man’s body practically radiated love for his vessel. Based on his scruffy appearance, far from the grand one Cuphead had seen depicted in books, Cuphead could easily believe the man put more into the ship than himself.

“I’m looking for a Captain Brineybeard. Heard he was a pirate and I wanted to see if pirates were truly still out and about. The metal ones aren’t pretty but they sure are mean.” He said, completely uncaring if he insulted the man. To his surprise, the man laughed once more, even slapping him heartily on the back a few times. Had he been Mugman, he had no doubt he’d be face first in the dock by the first slap. The guy had impressive strength, compared to Cuphead though, it wasn’t even a thought to withstand the friendly thwacks.

“I don’t need my craft t’ be mean for her t’ take one of them on, she’s a beast o’ the sea she is. She’s what’s going to take on that watery bucket that is Davy Jones too, and that’s all I need.” Brineybeard’s voice grew dark and thunderous towards the end, finishing with a bitterly spiteful hiss. Registering the first part of Cuphead’s response, he perked up.

“That be me boy! What’s a tiny waif like you doing looking for pirates? Be looking for danger are ye?” Cuphead, with exactly zero ability to read a situation and lacking his impulse control, shrugged.

“You could say that. I’m mostly here because the Devil sucks at going after debtors. _Apparently,_ he figured the best way to squeeze missing contracts from people like you is to send a kid to do the dirty work. You got a contract on you?” He said in such a blunt fashion that even the ship at their side stopped moving. He thought he heard Inkwell groan but couldn’t be sure. Brineybeard bristled, his lips twisting into a sneer, his hands clenching at his sides where his twin cutlasses sat tied to his belt.

“ _So,”_ His deep voice somehow managed to get lower and rougher. “ _Ye be a filthy bilge drinking dog sticking his hand where it don’t belong. Didn’t yer whore of a mother ever tell ye not t’ go dig for someone else’s treasure?”_ Brineybeard took advantage of their height difference and stepped so he was directly in front of Cuphead. Cuphead gave a hum before his response.

“Well I’d be insulted for my mom but both of them could make you either cry or turn you into a smear before you so much as scoffed at them. But to be fair, no, no she didn’t. In fact, she told me it was best to steal from pirates and thieves because the money they stole tended to stack up until it couldn’t be claimed by the victims so you’d have a higher chance of keeping the gold.” He gave Brineybeard a cheeky grin, entirely ready for a fight. A mental version of Mugman groaned and smacked his head into his palms, muttering about hotheads. He didn’t expect Brineybeard to toss his head back and let out a booming roar of laughter.

“I wouldn’t doubt it! I’ve never been much without me good ship there. Not too sure about the gold part, I’ve not tried testing that for obvious reasons. But much as I’d love t’ just hand it over t’ ye—I’ve got a weak spot for little spitfires y’ see—I can’t. I need it t’ go after the man down under what took my old crew. I suggest you run off back home, else my new crew will have _words_ with ye.”

“Oh neat! We lived near the ocean and I got to hear a bunch of sailors sing…shanties? Those sea songs! They even taught me and my brother a few!” Cuphead perked up, internally well aware that wasn’t what was said but hoping to keep the strange lack of hostility going. Then he saw Brineybeard hold up the paper with their list on it and his jaw dropped.

“Well no, but ye know that don’t ye. Oh look! Ye’ve got that sea witch Cala Maria on here! If ye survive what’s about t’ happen to ye boy, I’ll give ye a fair warning. She’s not right in the head. Ever since she started swimming with the fish o’ the deep she’s been a pain in me ass. For some reason she believes I’m out hunting a white whale of all things! I could care less about some bleached blubber.” Brineybeard waved the paper tauntingly above Cuphead, somewhat on purpose, somewhat not. Cuphead, entirely unimpressed but confused all the same, paused mid stance shift.

“I think I read that in a book once, but it was a regular sailor, not a pirate. Then again, you’d really have to ask my brother. Hey, I would really love to not knock you around until you hand over that contract but… Speaking of brothers, I sort of did a stupid thing and he’ll suffer if I don’t do this. I’m going to apologize in advance of what I’m about to do to your crew.” Cuphead sent him an apologetic smile and Brineybeard returned it with a wide grin.

“Tell me boy. How fast are ye?”

“Uh-“ Cuphead felt the dock shift from the land side and took the hint, leaping high into the air in a quick burst of motion. Right after he’d cleared Brineybeard’s head, a bone rattling boom shattered not only the quiet noise around them, but the crates Cuphead had been standing near and the door to the building across the way. Cuphead landed on Brineybeard’s shoulder, jaw dropping open again. He looked between the damage and the ship, then burst into an excited cheer.

“A cannon! A real cannon! You have cannons! This is the best day ever!” He let out another cheer, which was echoed by Brineybeard’s laughter. Brineybeard himself seemed content to let Cuphead stay perched on his shoulder. He even let Cuphead retake the paper that had been swiped from him.

“Aye! I do! Ye’ll be put down by them too! But I like ye, so I promise I’ll scoop ye up for yer brother to cart away for a proper burial so he don’t have t’ scrape ye off the docks.” He reached for Cuphead’s leg as the ship creaked and groaned. Cuphead kicked off Brineybeard, sending the surprised sailor into the water. The ship let out an unearthly and very angry moan. Cuphead, rightfully confused because ships didn’t normally make that sound, gave the ship another glance over.  He really didn’t expect it to split near the water line and roar at him. He also didn’t expect its’ crane to swing out and try dropping a barrel on him. He caught it and gave it back to the crane in the way one with strength for days would. Throwing it hard enough to splinter not only the barrel, but the crane itself. The ship lurched from the force carried through the part of the crane attached to it.

It let out a shriek that shattered the glass windows behind him, and had it not been for his runes, he was certain he’d have shared their fate. Cuphead barely had time to ponder a ship having a mouth and voice before Brineybeard, somehow making his way onto his vessel, starting shooting at him. Cuphead thought that was a tad unfair, given the fact that he didn’t see a way onto the ship. He ducked behind a few crates that had survived and looked around for something to return fire with. Waiting until it sounded like Brineybeard was reloading, he broke part of the dock off and swung it towards the ship’s main mast. The ship jerked to the side as if it had been hit and the piece of dock sailed by, clipping the arm of the mast instead. The small impact still ripped a chunk of wood off.

“Why would ye be so awed by cannons when ye got ones on yer arms?!” Brineybeard screamed, taking in the damage with wonder. Shocked as he was, he failed to keep his grip on his pistol and it tumbled off over the side of the ship. Cuphead decided that was a win, and after narrowly avoiding another cannon blast by tossing himself into the sea, picked his next target. Distracted as he was, he didn’t have time to avoid the shark that darted from the depths below and clamped down onto his midsection. He screeched and went under, dragged by the shark. One of his panicked kicks actually landed on the sharks’ side, cratering the predators’ midsection, his grasping hands broke its jaw in his attempt to pry its mouth off him before he broke. He was suddenly very glad for Mugman not being here.

Brineybeard watched the water suddenly turn red and let out a confused noise, he didn’t think the inhuman child would go down so easily. Of course it was right after he thought that that the sharks corpse resurfaced, splashing down onto the dock. Cuphead clawed his way out of the water not a second later, his body not buoyant enough to stay up without his hold on the dockside. Cuphead did not like getting wet. He had quite the fear of his new body being too heavy and not full of enough air to keep himself afloat. His mood dipped to the negative side as he coughed up sea water.

“Hey Captain? I’m going to have to take that apology back.” Cuphead spit the last bit of water out of his mouth and wiped his arm uselessly across his lips. He wasn’t glaring at Brineybeard, but both Brineybeard and his ship got a very, _very_ bad feeling. “You want to see Davy Jones _? How about I send you to the deep so you can meet him_.” Cuphead, seething and sopping wet, grabbed the shark by its tail and put everything he had into the throw. He only sort of didn’t expect it to hit Brineybeard and send the pirate sailing through the air in a shower of fish guts and bone. Brineybeard didn’t even have a chance to scream before he slammed into the water a good half mile away. His ship let out an enraged howl and began raining cannon fire down where Cuphead was. Or rather, where he’d been. It felt something begin yanking on its’ mooring rope and gave a confused groan, unable to see its target.

“Hey Captain’s ship?” Cuphead asked, voice disturbingly void and low. It gave out another confused groan before letting out a shocked screech as it was suddenly yanked downwards by the ropes in Cuphead’s hands. Cuphead only stopped when he had the ships railing in hand, the entire vessel tilted with the mast dipping into the water beside the shredded dock.

“Do you have his contract on you?” Cuphead ignored the fact that wood was squirming underneath his hands. It crooned out an impossible to decipher noise, ultimately settling on a hesitantly affirmative one.

“Would you mind giving it to me? That would be right swell of you.”

It was torn between handing the contract over and trying to avenge Brineybeard. It had apparently paused too long, as next thing it knew it was being boarded by the kid. The boards under his feet rolled and tried to buck him off, in return he stomped down and shattered them. He made his way to the main mast and wrapped his arms around it. The ship gave a pitiful begging noise. The mast gave a splintering crack under his hands and he heaved it up into the air, shaking it around like a baby would a rattle.

“Well,” Cuphead said over the loud shrill cries from the ship. “It’s not here. Oh well!” With a flick of his wrist it went soaring off into the horizon. He was about to see about ripping the center door off the ship to get into it when he heard splashing and turned around to see Brineybeard hurriedly scrabbling onto the deck.

“Lad wait!” Brineybeard cried out, face full of pure horror and fear for his ship. He held out a strangely dry sheet of paper to Cuphead. “Take the thing, please! Just don’t destroy my crew! She’s all I have left!” He was heaving, chest shuddering with each rapid intake of breath. It was evident he’d swam back as fast as he could. His face was still smeared with blood and it looked like his nose had been hastily snapped back in place after being broken. Cuphead quickly trotted over and pulled him the rest of the way up onto the ship. He took the contract and stuffed it under his shirt. Brineybeard began sobbing great heaving cries while he rubbed his hands soothingly over the wood. Cuphead awkwardly shuffled in place. Wishing he hadn’t turned the main mast into a harpoon.

There was no way he’d be able to find it either, he’d tossed it too hard and Inkwell didn’t have that sort of reach. He gave a few aborted attempts to speak, and then perked up, only now remembering Mugman and his magic.

“Hey, hey, look, all I wanted was this thing. Let me get my brother and he’ll repair her good as new!” Cuphead told Brineybeard, awkwardly reaching to pat him on the back but deciding against it at the last minute. Brineybeard didn’t respond, he just let out more soothing noises that could barely be heard over the ship’s wailing. Cuphead leapt off the deck, trying not to put too much force into it. As soon as he landed he darted forward, wet shoes slipping on the wood of the dock but gaining enough traction to get him shooting off towards the gold high-rise.

\---0---0---0---

“And your honey is weak! The northside does it better! I hope those bees overthrow you and choose the receptionist lady for a new queen!” Cuphead heard his brother shout a few seconds before he saw him. Had he not been guilt-ridden over the ship, he’d be on the floor laughing hysterically. His brother was _drenched_ in honey, his hair was plastered to his face and in one of his hands was the soul contract. But he wasn’t quite in the mood to laugh just yet, so he just picked Mugman up, ignored the surprised shriek, and darted back for the dock.

“Cuphead just what’s gotten- oh, you’re wet!” Mugman cried out, squirming in his brothers’ hold. Cuphead didn’t answer, he just kept running until they got to the crying ship, unstuck his brother from his shirt, and pointed at the ship.

“Fix it, please.” He told Mugman. Mugman, entirely confused, covered in honey, and still reeling from his own experience, just nodded slowly and turned to look at the ship. It was letting out pitiful wails still, the dock around it was a mess of wood and cargo. He reached for his magic, suddenly glad that there was so much of it. It answered him as it always had. A rune, bigger than Cuphead had seen before, even bigger than the one that had carved into the ground at Djimmi’s, burst into existence above the ship. It began rotating, vivid reds and whites and greens casting interesting shadows. It sunk into the water, then rose back up far more slowly. As it moved, the dock, caught in the range, reverted back to its original unbroken state. The boards on the side of the ship that Cuphead had broken to get up were the next to be visibly repaired. The boys heard a surprised shout from up top as the rune was reaching the deck.

Cuphead watched, eyebrows near his hairline as the mast began to reappear. Each inch the rune cleared being put back in place, down to the lacquer that had likely been making the wood shine when it was first installed. Brineybeard stood up, finally letting Mugman get a good look at him, and watched slack-jawed as his ship was repaired and renewed right before his eyes. Even the scent of the ship was new, fresh, and brought him back to the first time he and his old crew had feasted their eyes on her. The rune vanished as soon as it had completed the mast, the sail tied neatly at the top near the crows nest. The ship had stopped crying halfway through the mast being repaired and now quietly sat, bobbing on the waves.

“Cuphead?” Mugman turned to face his brother, still entirely aware that he was covered in honey and Cuphead was drenched with salt water. “What in the world happened he-Oh!” Mugman, in some dark corner of his mind, wondered if it was ‘manhandle people wearing blue’ day as he was suddenly hefted up by an enthusiastic Brineybeard. Cuphead was swept up into the hug right along side him and both brothers dangled in Brineybeards’ hold while he cried into Mugman’s shoulder. Mugman tried to shoot his brother a wide eyed, confused look but instead his honey-soaked face smushed into Brineybeard’s bandanna and it stuck to his cheek.

“Oh thank ye lad! Ye did it! She’s good as new!” Brineybeard cried out, pure joy making his body shake. He set Cuphead down, peeled Mugman off of him, entirely uncaring of the sticky remains of his hug and held Mugman’s shoulders in his massive grip. Mugman stared back up at him, seemingly not noticing the bandanna still stuck to his cheek.

“How’d ye do it? I’ve not seen a wizard that strong in years! Yer just a tiny little thing!” Brineybeard asked, eyes alight with grateful glee. He pulled Mugman back for another hug, not bothering to wait for a response. Mugman struggled to remember how to talk and peeled his face from Brineybeards shirt and spoke.

“I just, put the ship back to it’s best state. So everything that was missing would return.” Right as he said that, there were noises on the ship, the ship itself letting out a cry of surprise. The three turned to look at the ship and Mugman was dragged around, clutched to Brineybeard’s chest like the doll he kept being referred to. Up on deck were the crew members long dead, fully back and in the flesh.

“Captain?” The first mate called out, looking around in bewilderment.

“Mugs you might have done a bit more than fix the ship.” Cuphead muttered, eyes wide and voice weak. Mugman responded to him, but his voice was muffled, buried in Brineybeards shirt as it was. The muffled shriek that followed when Brineybeard charged, Mugman in tow, right up the ship’s ladder, somehow not knocking Mugman into the side of the ship despite his abrupt movement.

The brothers wound up in the middle of a grand reunion of captain, ship, and crew. Mugman especially. Poor fellow only managed to escape after ten more hugs had been given to him by not only Brineybeard but the crew. After learning what had been happening after the fateful battle that had taken his crew from him, the crew hadn’t hesitated to hug the boy. Sure, there was just so much honey over everyone now, but that didn’t matter to them. Cuphead was hugged a bit too, but, unwilling to get more honey on himself, had somehow managed to get out of sharing more than a few hugs. Mugman despaired at the feeling of drying honey squelching in his joints and hair. There was much cheering, loud and joyful cheering. Mugman took his chance to dig through his magic for some way to get honey off only to be given a shrug in return from the magic. Evidently there was no spell that was for removing honey from the caster’s everything. He heaved out a sigh and coughed up a mouthful of honey.

“Uh, hey, Captain Brineybeard?” Cuphead called out, finally deciding to get going, if only to find a store that would have new clothing. The man turned to face him, bandanna hanging around his neck, having been returned earlier.

“I’m really glad you got your crew back but my brother and I have to go find a store. Uh, for obvious reasons.” He weakly gestured to Mugman, who sent him a withering glare in return, miffed that Cuphead was only wet with something easy to clean off. Sure, if he was a regular mechanical doll he’d have to worry about saltwater ruining his gears, but that was what the runes were for. The runes prevented rusting from anything, including time, they just didn’t prevent sticking due to honey. Already Mugman could feel his joints seizing up, the metal skeleton no longer acting as structural support but an internal restraint. Though his magic was working to purge it, his soul trying to devour what it could, they weren’t fast enough and Mugman had taken in a lot of honey after taking an unwanted dip during his fight. All it had taken was losing his head for a split second for the honey to find the seams in his body and escape in.

“Oh!” Brineybeard strode over and looked Mugman over. “Well, actually, there is a store run by a fellow, goes by the name Porkrind. Let me tell ye a roundabout way t’ get t’ him. Then, once yer all fixed up, come on back, I’d be more than glad t’ help ye go after Cala Maria. She’s a speedy lass and I don’t think ye landlubbers have more than a boat.” He gave them directions, made sure they’d come back as soon as they were done, then announced that he was going to break out the rum and the crew could have a hearty drink in celebration. It was no small feat to be pulled from the depths of the sea and returned to life after all.

With a wave of thanks, Cuphead picked his brother up, since Mugman wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk without damaging gears, and leapt off the ship, taking off towards the shop, following Brineybeards’ directions. The crew and captain watched them go. As soon as they were out of sight, they broke out the rum, got their celebratory drink down, then got started planning how they were going to take on Cala Maria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tour offered was to show off how great they were. This was the 30's after all, and if anyone remembers history class, factories were only just starting to get safer. Thanks author of The Jungle for making the president sick enough to create the food and drug administration. Granted, this is one of the few things that carries in from the real world so there's no administration or president here, but the griffins were getting suspicious of the sausage and they're top tier customers. Yes, Cala Maria is next up! What happened to Mugman to get him drenched in honey? Well let's leave it at 'there is significant structural damage to the building and the first three floors are flooded with honey, which is held in place by very vindictive magic.'
> 
> I'm gonna be honest here, this and the others are all written with a 'Pull the lever!' sort of go and i just enjoy the ride the muse takes me on. Oh! In case anyone was wondering, the Fanart is being put to the side until I can get this done. Then I'll be going back in and putting pieces into the stories on here and my tumblr. I've prattled on enough, see you next time!


	13. Rinds and Reefs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cala Maria's turn.

Porkrind had seen a lot in his day. He’d been on many a travel, exploring the world to gain new things for his shop. Suffice to say, living dolls, while uncommon, weren’t rare. He’d seen plenty decorating living rooms, mantles, even acting as guard dogs since they generally didn’t require sleep. Sibling dolls were a bit more uncommon, mostly because few had the power to revive two souls in quick succession. Even so, he’d seen stranger, far more interesting things. That yak with the breath to cut through steel was pretty impressive. Needless to say, when the door to his shop on Isle Three was unceremoniously kicked down, he was more angry than anything else.

The anger lessened, then died, when he finally saw who came through the ruined doorway.

“Cuphead! You can’t just kick someone’s door down!”

“You’re talking without moving your mouth and it’s freaking me out! Besides, that honey settles any more and I’ll have a statue for a brother!” The children he’d helped were back. Apparently, they’d done a whole lot of stuff in between Isle One and Isle Three. First off, last he checked, the blue one, Mug something, wasn’t drenched in honey and unable to move more than his knees, elbows, or his head.

“Hey it’s you!” Cuphead perked up in surprise, momentarily forgetting his passenger. “Mister Porkrind? I need something that’ll clean out gears. Mugman here fought a bee!”

“I fought the entire hive, Cuphead.” Mugman glared, arms letting out a high-pitched whine when he tried batting at his brother’s head. Porkrind watched his door reappear on the suddenly perfectly repaired frame. Evidently the kid had some nifty skills that weren’t reliant on movement. He stood from behind the desk, huffing out a laugh.

“Put him on the counter-top kid. Pop him open too. There’s nothing in here that’ll flush out gears the way you’re probably thinking.” Porkrind pat the top of his counter, moving the items on top to the shelf he usually used to lean on. He didn’t bother to listen to the two chat, too focused on finding the necessary solvents. He figured whatever the kid was made of would require some level of delicacy, so clockwork cleaners it was. He dearly hoped the kid wouldn’t be too packed or complicated inside. He’d cleaned plenty of large things, but never something tiny or intricate.

“Oh _man_ this is disturbing.” Cuphead said, porcelain entirely white, face pinched in an uncomfortable grimace. It was really hard to remember they were dolls when things like popping open ones’ sibling was oh so rare.

“You’re telling me.” Mugman deadpanned, entirely unimpressed. Porkrind, equipment in hand, came back over and let out a whistle. The boy’s head was held in his brothers’ hands, his back had been opened up, exposing a mess of honey, soul liquid, and gears. Towards the edges of his back were bright white sparks of magic. It appeared like the magic was slowly and steadily making its way to the center. However, it was moving slowly, constantly flickering back and forth between cleaned areas and uncleaned areas, as if double checking. It was clear that the reason he wasn’t moving his limbs much was because the shoulder joints and hip joints were entirely covered.

“Your arms and legs covered as well?” He asked, figuring he’d at least check to be sure they wouldn’t have to remove more than just his main back panel.

“I think everything but my torso and head have been cleared, or, my torso and jaw I guess. I can’t move it at all.” Mugman replied, it sounded like the voice came from the body, and not the head. Cuphead looked noticeably ill. Porkrind nodded and began trying to scrape honey off the internal porcelain. Whenever his hands touched the magic, it would make his skin tingle and the hair on his arms raise.

“Better remove his jaw too if you can.” He said, fully aware he was basically elbow deep in a doll’s torso. Cuphead got the look of someone staring at their worst fear. He looked between his brother’s head and the body. Porkrind dearly hoped he wasn’t about to find out if doll’s could throw up. It looked like Mugman was more interested in what Porkrind was doing than the fact that his brother was at war with the idea of removing his jaw. Idly, almost lackadaisically, a flare of magic exposed the seams in his face where his jaw had been attached. Cuphead just barely caught the jaw before it clattered to the floor.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.” Cuphead chanted under his breath, shakily holding the jaw. He was far too uncomfortable with holding literal pieces of his little brother. The pitiful screeching from the gears, trying to function but unable to do so through the viscous fluid was just about the only reason he wasn’t leaving the room. He couldn’t figure out how Mugman handled his own jaw on the regular. The innards were painted a fleshy pink, his teeth modeled to be realistic despite the fact that he’d never use them to eat. Elder really hadn’t skimped on the detail at all.

Though he hadn’t added a tongue—their voices didn’t actually require that to speak perfectly, it came from the soul and was projected out the mouth—everything else was near spot on. The blue tint to everything gave him an image of the time they’d been at the docks and had witnessed the cops fish out a body. The flesh on the guy had been greenish blue, bloated, and despite being behind the line of cops, they’d gotten a whiff of decay that stayed with them for a while. While not that exact color, his brother’s skin was definitely paler than his own reddish-pink flushed porcelain. He knew his brother had looked like this since being revived but the close-up reminder was less than fun. Especially given the current situation. Two curious blue lights peeked past hair and hat brim at him.

“Cuphead? You have to set my jaw on the counter. Unless you want to try your hand at cleaning it?” Mugman spoke. Cuphead carefully put the jaw down next to the neck region, glad that he wasn’t shaking. As if noticing his brother’s discomfort—it wasn’t hard—Mugman reached for the first distraction he could.

“Mr. Porkrind? You seem to know a lot, do you just run a shop?” Porkrind didn’t look up from the shoulder joint he was helping magic clean up.

“Yeah, I explore the world during the off seasons.” He said, glancing at the jaw and wondering if their creator was secretly also a serial killer or a doctor. “I’ve seen a couple mechanical dolls like yourselves, never ones that could rip a door off or magic that could clean up gears though.” He muttered towards the end.

“Elder said he gave us those to spite Inkwell.” Mugman replied, the fully clean shoulder moving in a shrugging motion. It was fascinating to see the gears shift and the porcelain bend in ways it would never be able to normally to produce the motion seamlessly. Porkrind snorted, briefly trying to wipe his hands off on a towel. The trio continued chatting away, Cuphead briefly leaving with Mugman’s head to get the honey out of his hair. It took the combined efforts of Porkrind and Mugman’s magic a good half-hour to pry all the honey out and re-oil the gears. By the time he was done, the metal gleamed brilliantly in the blue glow cast by Mugman’s soul. The outer porcelain was cleaned off, but the clothing was a lost cause.

 Porkrind dug around his store to find replacements. Considering the—what could only be described as a hit-list—he’d found in the shirt pocket of one of them, they’d be needing a recent addition he’d gotten in. He was really glad his store had such a variety of oddities in it. He left the clothing outside the backroom door, knocking to let them know it was there, and as he was walking back he watched his shop door slowly creak open. A tiny vine hesitantly pushed what looked like precious jewels of excessively high quality into his shop. It pointed at him, tapped the floor near the jewels twice, and slithered back out.

 If it took him a minute to actually pick the jewels up, put them in his pocket to be inspected by a good jeweler friend later on, he didn’t think anyone would blame him.

\---0---0---0---

The boys ran back to the dock, new clothing designed to bolster their defense, and give a nasty shock to anything that hit them, not hindering them in the slightest. Cuphead found it odd that Porkrind had declined any payment but was more than glad to take the gift and get back to the pirate ship. The ship was still docked where it had been before, the crew was abuzz with activity. The ship itself, upon spotting them, gave a loud but oddly cheerful hum. Not a minute after that, Brineybeard appeared near the boards leading up the side to the deck.

“There ya lads’ be! Well come on! We’ve got a sea wench to catch!” Brineybeard ushered the two up, then, with a wave and a nod, the main sail dropped, caught the wind, and the ship lurched into motion. He caught the boys when they both tumbled back from the sudden movement, joking about ‘land-legs’. The boys, unsurprisingly, were excited. Boats were nothing compared to a full-on Sloop. The sight of the sail bending in the wind, the ropes pulling taut, expertly tied by quick sailor hands, all of it was new. Mugman wanted to make it _more_ exciting.

Usually, the boat they used was enhanced by him via magic. The front of the boat would be set with an enhancement rune. The enhancement rune was designed to increase anything impacting it by however much the caster wanted/was strong enough to support. So when the water hit the rune, it would come out the other side moving twice as fast. At the right angle, that allowed the boat to cut through the water at a much greater speed, reducing the time it took to get to the main Isles. Now, with a sail, he wanted to see what would happen with an even stronger rune. Making his way to the top deck, he got Brineybeards attention.

“Sir? Would you mind if I tried something with the ship?” He asked, polite as could be. Brineybeard, taking his eyes off the paper guiding him to Cala Maria’s location, didn’t even hesitate to nod. He gave the blue brother a big grin, the quartermaster gave him a curious look. Because of Auntie Chalice’s teachings, he was far more liberal with how powerful he made the rune. First, to be safe, he put strengthening runes on the mast, then he called up the largest enhancement rune he’d done to date. It glowed a vivid gold, casting shadows even in the bright light of the sun. Easily the size of the main sail itself, the rune caught the wind that had to go through it to reach the sail… and released gale force winds.

This time Mugman was braced, the crew, having spotted the magic kid talking to their captain and looking awful interested in the sail, had also braced. Cuphead had not. As such, he learned exactly what a ship deck tastes like. The wind shrieked out the other side, sending the ship through the water at nearly three times the fastest speed it had ever gone. Brineybeard let out a boisterous laugh, gleefully turning the wheel to keep his ship on target. The ship itself let out a high-pitched scream, it hadn’t expected to go from sailing to gliding.

After peeling himself off the deck, Cuphead made his way to his brother.

“How is this helpful exactly?” He called out over the sound of the wind.

“We lost time cleaning my gears! I’m making that time up! We’ll find her in no time!” Mugman cheerily replied. Cuphead wondered just when his brother became a speed-demon.

“At this rate we’ll wind up ramming into her!” Cuphead pointed out, peeking over Brineybeard’s bulging arm muscles at the paper. He dearly wished the paper gave them more than just a direction. Luckily for him, when they started to get closer the arrow would turn into a dot. Unluckily for everyone aboard with weak hearts, the arrow went from an arrow to a dot in the exact second Cala breached the surface and watched a ship blast past her. And then, with a suspiciously giddy “oh my,” from Mugman, the ship was suddenly facing her once more, and returning just as quickly.

 Cuphead bodily tackled his brother in a burst of terrified desperation. The rune vanished, three more appeared to aid in slowing down the ship. The figurative brakes were hit so hard that the crew heard the ship let out a queasy groan. The ship’s nose tapped Cala Maria’s abdomen gently, she numbly pushed it back a smidge.

“I hate you.” Cuphead grumbled even while Mugman poked him in the face, trying to get him off while laughing in joy.

“What?” Cala said, far too stunned to shout, or say anything else.

“There ye be lass, these here boys got a need for somethin’ o’ yer’s!” Brineybeard called out. She let out a puzzled noise, focusing her gaze on the two children apparently fighting. Brineybeard hefted Cuphead up, laughing at the glare on Cuphead’s face, directed at his brother.

“Hi!” Mugman waved from his spot on the floor. She blinked at him in response.

“That contract o’ yers. They be needing it.” Brineybeard helpfully supplied. It was then that Cuphead realized exactly why she hated Brineybeard. The guy had no sense of tact. For a moment, he also realized exactly what it felt like to be Mugman.

“My…oh my soul contract? Why?” She asked slowly, brain still trying to catch up with everything.

“We’re going to kick the Devil in the shins!” Mugman responded. His soul liquid just about audibly hummed with excitement. He was absolutely going to be putting a sail on their boat at home. Cuphead just gave her the look of a person realizing many things at once. She pitied the red one.

“Un…fortunately I still need to keep ahold of it. You see, I hunt nefarious sea dogs like the one you’re with.”

“I told ye, I only want that herpes infested slum bubble, Davy Jones!” Brineybeard yelled back, dropping Cuphead and stomping one peg leg. She squinted at him, disbelief clear in her gaze. Cuphead noted a building hostility in her look as well, and despaired. His soul liquid _still_ hadn’t settled.

“Do you know how many have used that excuse? Exactly one. You’re the only one. But I’m still suspicious! Plenty others have used equally plausible excuses to hurt my precious sea life and _I’m not risking it._ ” Cala hissed. Mugman pulled himself up and pulled a contract out from storage.

“Miss? We really don’t want any trouble.” He tried, the exhilaration fading and his rational thought returning. She leaned closer, not touching the boat but giving the paper a quick once over. She gave a huff, knocking a few pirates hats off, then leaned back.

“As I said, I need mine to continue protecting my adorable creatures. Sure, I haven’t walked on land in years and I’m probably too big to actually do so without causing severe collateral damage to any streets, but that hardly matters! I’m not sorry, you can’t have it, just like I can’t let this ship leave. You just about hit one of my whales you bastard!” She sent her arm out, letting it smash into the deck. Or rather, she tried to. It was difficult when there was a red hatted kid and a bright green glow grabbing her arm before it hit the ship. The ship’s deck flashed three times, it gave off a confused groan.

The confusion died when one of the whales rammed into it and didn’t even leave a scratch. Mugman gave her a pleading look.  Brineybeard shouted for all hands to prepare for a brawl. She pulled her arm away and dove under just as a barrage of cannon fire blasted over where she’d been. She broke the surface again, this time wielding a single, but utterly gigantic fish. Beside her, sea turtles began carrying what looked like old sea mines towards the hull. The enhancement rune sprang back to life, followed by a wind generating spell that kicked up a breeze. The ship’s sharp jolt forward caused a few to stumble, but also helped the ship dodge the turtles. Brineybeard braced, ready to steer the ship as expertly as he could.

The massive fish was squeezed and a jet of high-speed water cut through the sail. The wind died down just long enough for the magic to repair the sail, then it was up and going again. Cala Maria glared at them all, letting the fish slip back into the water. The brothers were confused until one, then two, then four, then eight, then more puffer fish floated to the surface. Cala Maria’s eyes flashed, one minute human, the next, snake-like. A sailor that had been looking at her only gave a single breath of surprise before he was turned to stone. The brothers gaped at the new statue. Brineybeard cussed angrily, twisting his ship so it faced her, and braced for impact. She stayed above, as if calling his bluff. It was a poor decision on her part, the ship slammed into her so hard she doubled over and slipped back under the water. The puffer fish trying to act like a barrier were mowed down with equal force.

When she rose again, her flesh was a greenish color, her face was twisted in a ferocious snarl. She reached for the ship, letting out a scream of rage as the wind kicked up and the ship darted out of her grip at the last second. Her eyes caught sight of the blue hatted child pointing at her, or more specifically, the soul contract she had tucked into her hair. Diving down once more, she evaded another blast of cannon fire and swam for her monstrous deep-sea fish. Resurfacing, she aimed it at the deck, and threw it, right at where Brineybeard stood. She figured if she could knock the captain down it would cause enough panic to make those aboard too frantic to focus. Instead, it hit a barrier, and was instantly fried. Bright violet lighting arcing out from the quickly charring body, ripping into her and knocking her for a loop. She slipped under the water once more, this time, dazed rather than determined.

When she next surfaced, she had massive eels with her. She also noted the sailor she’d petrified was back in action, entirely cured. But, and she took this with a glimmer of hope, it looked like the blue child was getting winded. He didn’t look near as energetic as he had before. The wind continued to blow, but there was no rune making it faster. One of her eels darted forward and managed to snag a cannon, ripping it from the deck, nearly taking out the sailors nearby with the motion. With an army of very quick eels, a mage who was growing weak, and one cannon down, she felt arrogant. Then the red hatted child got into a position, like he was going to punch something. She blatantly eyed the distance between them and gave him a mocking sneer. She would regret her arrogance.

The kid pulled back, then, just as he threw what looked like _everything_ into a punch, an enhancement rune flashed into existence. The moment his fist hit it, many things happened at once. First, the rune shattered on impact. Then, the ship rocked violently to the side from the blowback force. The impact wave that went forward however, did _far_ more damage. Half of her eels were turned into a red mist; the water was shoved to the side by the pressure. Her arm, closest to the blow, felt like someone had driven an entire man o’ war ship into it. Within a few seconds she simply couldn’t feel it at all. She, and everyone on the ship, gaped at the children. This time it was the red one that let out an excited cheer.

“That was so cool!” He cried out excitedly. She, unsurprisingly unamused, sent her petrifying gaze across the ship once more. It got ten sailors this time and was the only distraction she needed. The ship was in the process of sailing past her, having been trying to line up a broadside shot. When the blue one went to fix them, hands glowing with magic, she snapped her arm out and grabbed him. The red one tried to grab her hand but she was faster.

“You cheater!” She shrieked at the blue one, then, in her own show of strength, flung him as hard as she could at the water. He hit it with barely a breath of sound, a shimmer of magic making her snarl at the realization that he’d managed to put a barrier up. The red one screamed, for a second, she thought he was going to dive into the water, but two sailors who weren’t frozen managed to hold him back. She gave him a nasty glare and slipped under the waves. She wasn’t one to leave business unfinished. She caught sight of the blue child sinking deeper. Reaching for him once more, she tried to crush him in her grip, a barrier being the only thing between her success and his continued life.

“You’ll need air at some point _mage_. Unlike me, _you can drown_.” She taunted him, tightening her grip. He blinked at her in confusion, honestly considering she was trying to crush/drown him, she was a little affronted.

“I don’t need to breathe at all.” He said, voice carrying through the barrier easily. She paused and got a closer look at him. Above her, the eels continued trying to bite and attack the ship. Due to looking at him, she failed to see one of them get hauled onto the ship and sent back down with its entire spine removed. Another one became the first eel in space. One eel managed to eat a sailor but was then turned into a gruesome pretzel. The sailor was recovered, slimy, but alive. Down below, she finally realized the child wasn’t human as she’d thought.

“Oh! Oh my, you’re a statue!” She lost her cruel expression, gaining one of surprise.

“Well no.”

“Oh that’s wonderful! Your empty husk will make a great home for the smaller fish!” She cheered, giving him a happy grin. He blinked a few times in confusion. Leaning a bit to the side, he noticed the corpse of an eel float down into the depths behind her, he very carefully did not draw attention to it.

“That’d be a lot of work when you can just sink the ship and let the fish use that.” He finally responded. She rested her head on one of her hands, her grip loosening a bit on him.

“True, but you’re sort of ruining my attempts at destroying the ship. So until you’re dead, we aren’t surfacing.” She idly poked at his head, unsurprised when the magic snapped at her finger. A pufferfish army tried to storm the deck, they were taken out with such brutality that an eel threw up.

“Did you know that sirens aren’t mermaids?” He finally said after a few minutes. She perked up, her lower half, which, one second would be human, the next, a fish tail, then back to human, but always covered in green scales, almost seemed to wag.

“Oh yes! I do, in fact know! Goodness do you have any idea how annoying it is to be called a siren?” She pulled him closer to her face, forgetting they were supposed to be enemies. “Do I _look_ like a crotchety disease-ridden pigeon?”

“No?” A sea turtle shell drifted down behind her, cracked entirely in half.

“Thank you! Though, to be honest, I’m not fully a mermaid either. I’ve got some gorgon blood in me! If… that wasn’t obvious.” She casually gestured towards the ship. Mugman took a moment to wonder how crazy his absence was making Cuphead.

“It was obvious, and I’d love to learn how you’re related to Medusa, but, you see, my brother Cuphead and I really do need your soul contract. Wait! Let me explain.” He spared a bit of hope that she’d give him a chance, the rest of his hope went to memories of girls in his class somehow liking him and calling him adorable.

“I get that you want to keep your fish safe, and I find that wonderful! But you see, if we don’t get your contract, the devil gets mine and my brothers soul. Short of it is my brother had a mindless moment and made a bet that he lost. However, if we bring back a bunch of soul contracts he lost, we get to keep our souls. But it’s the Devil, only the dim-witted trust him. So we plan on using the power the contracts give us to fight him, win your freedom and the freedom of every other debtor, and maybe burn his casino down. Or freeze Hell.” She took in his explanation carefully, at least he thought she did.

“So…he’s using children as hitmen because he’s a horrible loan shark?” She finally said.

“You and my brother both say that! He just about said that to Devil’s face you know?” Mugman threw his one free arm up in exasperation. She gave an amused snort.

“Say I do give you my contract, and say you do fight the Devil, but you lose. I’d be in for it, with no way of escaping.”

“I’ll have you know we don’t intend to lose. I don’t think he’ll expect us to have such an increase in power. And if I freeze Hell, then he’ll have to skate to fight us and he might be a terrible ice skater.” Mugman responded. She burst out laughing at the image, and finally held up her soul contract.

“Here’s the deal,” She said, holding it just out of his reach. He didn’t dare try to grab it. “You swear that you’ll do everything in your power to best that jackass and win my freedom, and swear you’ll talk that pirate into never hunting another whale again, and I’ll give this to you. You also have to swear that your brother won’t turn my precious eels to a powder.” He locked eyes with her and gave one solemn nod. Very, very carefully not mentioning how the water around the ship was red. She idly noted that despite looking at her, he didn’t turn to stone. She’d been trying to do that since he started talking, evidently, his magic was far stronger than her cursed gaze was. For a split second she swore she heard the magic surrounding him give her a mocking hiss. She ignored that, more for her own sanity than anything, and handed her soul contract over.

She rose back up, far enough from the ship that the red one couldn’t punch her, but close enough and at just the right angle that the cannons were useless. She tossed the child in her grip so he was caught by his brother. His brother, who looked exactly one second away from tearing her eyes out and strangling her with her own hair. Of course, that’s when she noticed the carnage. It _was_ awful hard to miss an eel spine tied into a bow decorating the nose of the ship. It was also hard to miss that most of the frozen sailors were wearing puffer fish corpses as hats. The red hatted child was _drenched_ in blood.

“My sea friends!” She shrieked.

“Cuphead!” Mugman screamed, entirely unhappy to be covered in fish guts.

Cala Maria’s face went through many different emotional spasms. For a brief moment, she contemplated taking it back, taking the blue kid again, and tearing his head off. Then she saw the murderous, nearly demented look the brother was giving her, and her rational side beat her anger into the depths of her mind frantically. Taking a deep breath and collecting her thoughts, vowing to mourn the lost fish later, she finally spoke. She might as well work with what she had, reasonably speaking, she couldn’t expect the blue kid to have known his brother was adding new _décor_ to the ship.

“Brineybeard, I gave that kid my contract but I _will_ take it back if you don’t swear to never hunt another whale again.” Brineybeard strode to the railing on his ship, making sure to look her in the nose, well aware looking her in the eye was stupid.

“I’ll tell ye what lass, ye can come with me on every journey I go on. Once them lads best th’ Devil, ye can even help me take on Davy Jones. That way, ye never mistake me ship as one o’ those whale hunting ones. Agreed?” He held out one hand. She eyed it carefully, glanced at the crew, then shook his hand with one of her fingers. She appreciated that he didn’t mention the numerous fish corpses, he was too busy trying to come to grips with watching a small doll tear the spine out of a fifty-foot eel.

“Agreed. You better beat that Devil, you hear me?” She told Mugman, though, it was debatable if he heard her considering his brother was clinging to him like a limpet and glaring at her. She got the distinct feeling that if she hadn’t come up with the blue one safe and sound, the red one would have found a way to eradicate her from existence. Somehow, she had no doubt he really would be able to. A part of her that liked living thanked her rational brain for giving the other kid a chance. Especially when a lone eel, burnt beyond measure, came back down from the sky, splashing into the water and slipping under the waves in crispy chunks.

\---0---0---0---

Cuphead didn’t let go of his little brother until they were back at the dock. Even when cleaning off below deck, he kept ahold of his brother’s hand. Mugman hadn’t really cared. Mugman had taken the first half of the journey back to recharge and fix the petrified sailors. He kept the wind spell going as well, seeing as it was far easier to maintain than the enhancement rune. Cala Maria had even given some help of her own. Pushing the ship forward even faster than the wind could until they could see land once more.

She left as quickly as she could, she had a funeral to set up for her lost sea life. It was while she was swimming back, taking her own route, that she ran into a woman, twinkling like the stars in the sky, floating on what looked like a cloud.

\---0---0---0---

The brothers made their way off the ship, taking in the time of day and the remaining names on the list. It was nearing the afternoon, the sun shining directly overhead giving them a far more ominous feeling than it ever had. They still had four names left on their list. Brineybeard had been unable to give them any tips on any of the others. Porkrind had given them an idea as to who was where, seeing as plenty came through his shop. However, there were still four left, and they had no idea how long each would take. Especially since Mugman had to limit how much magic he used from then on.

Cuphead dreamed of the day his brother would have the ability to use that magic as arbitrarily as Elder apparently had. A part of him thought that if they’d messed up a deal with the Devil later in their lives, they’d never have had to go on this journey. Then again, he thought while they wandered towards the oddest name on the list, Mugman had gotten much better with his magic. Hell, Cuphead had learned all sorts of new moves and ways to handle his strength. He’d also stress tested the runes that allowed his body to handle all that strength, which was fun.

“Actually, I think Elder mentioned this Doctor at some point.” Mugman noted.

“Okay, but here’s my question, why does it say the robot is the debtor?” Cuphead responded, pointing at the name. Mugman gave a baffled shrug as reply. The siblings continued following the arrow, hoping whatever they’d find wouldn’t be any weirder than Wally’s place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right, the robot is next. Mugman is going to have to lay off the magic for now. Cala would have done far more damage to the ship if he hadn't been using his magic so liberally. As a side note, Sloops are single mast ships, small in size, and very agile. Usually, they'd be able to hold around 18 cannons. Since Brineybeards ship is a single mast ship in the overworld, I figured that's what it was. A man o' war is a far more massive ship, if anyone here has played Assassin's Creed Black Flag, they'll know just how fierce those things are. They didn't get that name by being the weenie hut jr. of the sea that's for damn sure.   
> Cala Maria, once a gorgon cursed to stay on an island, made a deal with the devil to escape her curse and finally be free to swim with the sea life around her. She wanted to protect them. So she was given the heart of a mermaid, had to eat it, and now she can't ever drown, but she also can't ever leave the ocean. She doesn't regret it all that much. Also, once again, Sirens are not mermaids. Seriously. I hope that when you all see a mermaid get called a siren, you get annoyed as well. Sirens were bird ladies. Also...
> 
> The hell do you think Cuphead's body count is at this point?


	14. It is weirder.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robots and creepy mad scientists.

It was so much weirder. It was as if a junkyard met a laboratory, met a factory. There was a tall but rickety privacy fence along the perimeter. A building pumping smoke out like that was the only thing it was built for and it was an over achiever negated the effectiveness of the fence. Both brothers got the feeling that whatever was about to go down was going to be less than fun. The air around them grew thick with steam as they got closer to what looked like a garage. They oh so carefully peeked in, trying to figure out just where the arrow was pointing them. For some reason, neither of them felt like they should linger in the area for any longer than necessary. Mugman swore his magic was rattling like a snake, getting more and more agitated at something he couldn’t see.

When the garage turned out to be too dark to see into the brothers quickly moved on. They worked their way around the junkyard. Cuphead nearly shrieked when something massive and metallic moved under the pile of scrap towards the center of the fenced in area. He let out a weak wheeze instead, lengthening his stride, aiming to hurry up and find the guy. He may not know why the robot’s name was on the list, but he was sure finding the creator would mean finding the contract. He and Mugman both were even more aware that blindly checking to see what had moved the junk was stupid, so they didn’t even bother to. As such, the faster they got out of the open the better.

Deciding to try the handle on one of the factory doors, they let out twin sighs of relief when the door opened without so much as a creak. The place was dark despite it being day time. The windows, though big, looked as if something was tinting them, keeping light from slipping in aside from a few cracked panes. Mugman heard a distinct low hum from a few machines, sending a chill into his soul. It was the red staining the conveyor belts that kept most of his attention though. Whatever the red was, it wasn’t fresh, nor was it rust. He grabbed the back of his brother’s shirt and edged closer. The arrow began spinning, unable to pick out where the debtor was, then, with a flicker, it disappeared from the page. The boys glanced at one another, ultimately continuing forward after a brief pause.

Around halfway through the factory, Cuphead tripped on a slightly raised tile. He stumbled, throwing his hands out. He caught himself on a nearby conveyor belt. His hand hit something wet, almost tacky in texture, and he froze. The metallic smell in the air was so thick, the low lighting was so dim, he couldn’t tell what he’d put his hand on. Mugman’s hands lit up in a soft glow, casting an almost fire like light on their surroundings. The conveyor belt was full up of what looked like rotting animal carcasses mashed up with machines. Without a word, a flare of magic burned the goopy viscera clinging to Cuphead’s hand off. Apparently holding off the magic meant no big things. For that, Cuphead was thankful. They were _both_ thankful they didn’t need to breathe.

Looking at the tile he’d tripped on, he realized it was a door. Like the one that lead to their cellar back at home. Lifting it up meant prying the metal open. Cuphead didn’t even register how much strength he put into it, too curious to care. Right as he was turning to face Mugman, lightning from a generator near the entrance crackled across the factory, striking a pole above them. The light only lasted a moment, illuminating everything in a flash, leaving the brothers stunned and blinking lights out of their eyes. Or rather, Mugman was trying to clear his vision.

Cuphead’s gaze remained fixed on something he thought he saw in the hazy air. His eyes were locked above his sibling’s shoulder, where he swore he’d seen the outline of something metallic, but not like the rest of the machines around them. It looked like it had been designed with a face. Without even a pause, Cuphead tore the door up the rest of the way, then dragged Mugman down into the depths of the building. He had a hope that the light was just playing tricks on him.

\---0---0---0---

The area below wasn’t much better. It was lit up, sure, but the things below were far worse than animal corpses and poorly maintained machinery with faces.

“Severed head number fifty-six. Severed head number ten. Brother, I’m nervous.” Mugman leaned away from the jars containing preserved heads of varying states of decay.

“Oh come on Mugs, you don’t think those are real do you?” Cuphead replied, poking one of the jars.

“Not that, the fact that whoever organized these put fifty-six next to ten. I’m afraid we’re in the lab of a scientist who can’t count.” Mugman replied, eyeing the wires leading from one jar, over to a machine that was currently switched off. He wasn’t sure why the wires were hooked up to the skin the way they were, but he wasn’t interested in finding out. He turned to point this out to Cuphead, only to find his brother gone. Soul liquid freezing in panic, he twisted around, trying to spot his brother within the room.

There, across the way, near a series of tables across from the wall of jars, was his brother. Mugman quickly shifted to return to his siblings’ side, tempted to smack him for leaving his side, but decided against it. Before he could take more than a step, something covered in steel flashed out of the corner of his eye.

\---0---0---0---

Cuphead looked across the twelve tables full of what he hoped were either dolls or mannequins. He reached out, planning to poke one to see what the gray flesh really was. A machine that was attached to the table screeched to life, literally. It gave off a loud screeching hum, the wires leading from it to the body twitched, then the body itself lurched, as if trying to curl up. Cuphead gave out a horrified shriek, and in a panicked motion, threw a punch at the machine, smashing it to pieces. The body jerked around a little longer, restraints on the table creaking under the force of the motions.

“Ah ha! Another pathetic pair of children dared to take a peek at crazy- Kahl I see!” An eccentric male voice cried out. Cuphead nearly slipped in his haste to turn. He didn’t spot anyone though, even when he looked up, all he saw was a speaker. If he had been human, his heart would have relocated to his throat. He didn’t see Mugman anywhere either. A part of him wondered if the sudden increase in people taking his brother was karma’s way of getting back at him for abandoning his sibling to get those contracts earlier.

“Mugs? Mugman?” He called out, hoping his brother had just ducked under a table or behind a shelf at the voice. Between the two of them, Mugman had always had the flight response to scary things, while Cuphead had the ambush response. There was no reply to his call, so Cuphead began looking around the place more, tossing a few jars full of weird looking babies to clear the shelves.

“Is that the new experiments name? How horribly bland! It keeps talking, too. Calling for a Cuphead? What even is a Cuphead? Robot? Do be sure to not crush that one!” In a panic now, Cuphead hefted the entire shelving unit up, as if Mugman would have somehow gotten behind it or under it. Jars crashed down around him, splattering his pants and shoes with foul smelling preservatives. Heads rolled, machines teetered forward, yanked by wires still attached to some of the jars. Glass shattered, then, the shelf was sent across the room in a fit of anger.

“Well chalk that down as infinitely interesting. It appears like that one has serious strength where this one has-OW! Grab—”

“Cuphead! Secret door behind shelf!” His brother’s terrified voice cried out. There was a loud booming thud from somewhere behind the wall. So, Cuphead did what any brother would when someone was threatening their brother. He punched the wall, more than glad when the entire thing dented inwards.

“Holy shi—OW! Robot, just pass me his head!” Cuphead’s boot stepped down on a tiny body, little crunching sounds mixed with the squishing. He grimaced, adjusted his footing once more, then lashed out again. This time, the wall gave way. It tumbled backwards, exposing a far larger room. Junk, scrap metal, jars full of more bits of bodies, and impressive looking machines lined the walls. In the center were a few tables. On one of the tables, was Mugman, back panel removed. The owner of the eccentric voice stood over him, clutching his brother’s head.

Cuphead didn’t even register his body moving. One second he was what had to be forty feet from his brother, the next, a thick metal arm was being heavily dented by his fist, blocking his punch aimed at the man. The same machine with the face he’d seen before. Another arm ending with a claw flashed out the corner of his eye and he ducked, narrowly avoiding the thing’s attempt at grabbing him. The arm he’d dented shoved into him, sending him crashing back into a table that was already occupied. Cuphead thought he’d given out a groan, then, he registered the voice was far too low to be his. He twisted his head and came face to face with a live human strapped to a table, innards strung out around him in a macabre mockery of streamers.

“You brute! Be carefully cautious with that one! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to procure suitable subjects? I swear the homeless population is flopping faster than I can take them in!” The man, apparently the doctor, thundered. His face was a splotchy purple with his rage. Mugman looked both terrified and highly angry that he was helpless in his current state. The fact that the doctor was still moving told Cuphead that either Mugman hadn’t had the chance to use his magic, or something was blocking it. The fact that the doctor had vicious burn marks all along his fingers implied the magic was able to defend its host somewhat, and just as angry as Cuphead.

An intestine flopped onto his shoulder, twisting and twitching as if alive. The body under his let out a pitiful cry. He dove off the table, stumbling away from the man without taking Mugman out of his line of sight. There were more bodies like the man’s around, now that Cuphead’s vision wasn’t laser focused. The human part of his soul gagged, but the part that had been growing stronger through their journey, the doll part, didn’t even flinch. The robot gave off a metallic squeal as it moved the dented arm up to inspect it. Cuphead began thinking of all the ways he could tear the thing apart. If anything happened to his brother, the entire place would find itself relocated to Hell.

“Glory! You’re such a barbarous brute!” The doctor scolded, putting Mugman’s head down and resting his hands on Mugman’s soul container. A moment later he was tearing them off with a shriek, waving his flash frozen hands around in a panic. The robot gave out a creaking, belittling laugh in response to its creators’ pain. Kahl, who he most likely was, sneered at the robot, then turned to face Cuphead.

“You stand in the presence of Dr. Kahl! Greatest inventor in Inkwell and possibly the mainland! Now, boy. This one refuses to talk, who created you?” The old doctor gave a flourish, as if entirely uncaring that his hands were severely damaged.

“Elder.” Cuphead replied, prowling closer. Mugman had no doubt that if the Devil himself had been between him and his brother, Cuphead would have skinned the guy without hesitation. Mugman had never seen Cuphead so angry before.

“Wait…wait, wait, wait… I’ve heard that name…Yes! He actually achieved it? Of course, the braggart would make _two,_ twins even! But his creations lack the luster of my own!” Kahl cried out dramatically, swinging his arm around to gesture to his whole lab. The robot hissed. Cuphead didn’t reply. Kahl got the distinct feeling he was in grave mortal danger. He pointedly didn’t step away from the other doll’s body.

“Quite intricate indeed. Tell me, I’ve found a list with my name on it, clearly in that felonious felon in Hell’s handwriting, but! I fail to see that man on here. How’d he make two of you without previous payment? On top of that, witsuch ferocious feelings! Why, that cretin behind me had to sell his soul to regain half of his personality. Not that he got the good half back.” Kahl grumbled, the robot responded with a biting laugh. Cuphead, now just out of arms reach of his sibling, stopped. The robot looked like it was taunting him, he dearly hoped it didn’t think it was going to get in his way of Mugman.

His brother’s body was rattling on the table, the back panel sitting on a shelf under the table. His arms and legs had been strapped down with strange looking restraints. Where the human behind him had regular leather ones, Mugman’s were a heavy and thick chain. The porcelain underneath was gouged in places where it was evident that Mugman had tried prying his arms out. The shirt was placed neatly under the table as well, next to his back. Cuphead didn’t know whether to be more upset to know that Kahl had deliberately unbuttoned the shirt rather than cut it. He chose to be creeped out and added the emotion to the roiling pile of enmity only held back by the fear that Mugman would be caught in the crossfire in his current state.

“Neither of you are much with words I see. A positive pity! I was hoping I’d be able to get some answers before carving began! Now, if you’ll excuse me, Robot, show this raucous ruffian to the door! I only need one to figure out a rival’s work!” The robot tipped forward, almost as if it had suddenly lost power, then, two arms whipped out and went to knock Cuphead away. Cuphead held his arms out to block the first one, and a weak, flickering barrier blocked the second. Mugman let out a distressed whine, arcs of electricity blazing to life all across his gears. The restraints gave a heavy creak and tightened around the limbs more.

“Oh do stop that, I told you once I’ve told you a thousand times. It’s positively perilous to your current condition to try using that mockery of true science.” Kahl droned, smacking Mugman on the head with the wrench in his hand. He was about to start tearing the gears out to see what made the porcelain move when there was an ungodly loud metallic scream. He looked up and dropped his wrench. Cuphead had driven his heels into the polished floor and was in the process of ripping the right arm off the robot entirely. It took him less than ten seconds to achieve his goal. Kahl immediately hit a switch attached to the table, the floor around it jolted, and the thing began to descend.

Cuphead, in the process of using the arm like a javelin, shattering the robots right shoulder region with ease, had to dodge the other limb, but missed. Its claw wrapped around his body, then, before he knew it, they were back outside. The robot was massive in height, easily towering over the factories. Cuphead was not impressed. Peeling the claw off like one would peel a banana, he tore one of the claws off and drove it into the arm. Using it as a springboard, he leapt at the things face. It shot a laser at him in response. The only thing that kept him from learning what lasers did to porcelain was a bright red plane picking him up mid leap and carrying him into a wide turn.

“You really need to stop going headfirst into danger!” Hilda Berg told him over the rumble of her engine. He clutched the wing of her plane, jaw dropped and eyes wide. She hauled him into the suddenly appearing second seat then pulled the plane into a sharp roll. Lasers shot past the wings, avoided easily by the ace in the sky.

“What?” Was all Cuphead could say.

“A rather lovely woman won me over to your side! You’ll have to thank her later!” She replied, maneuvering the plane until it faced the robot again and opened fire. Bullets ripped into its other arm, peppering the metal, wrecking the internal gears.

“That things creator has Mugman!” He called out, she gave him a smarmy grin and a wink.

“I’m not the only one that came over. This guy is well known on the island for being all levels of messed up. Cala heard that name and thought she recognized it from one of those metal ships she’d seen out and about, and of course, I recognized it because I’m not living with a hermit.” Hilda pulled the plane into a sharp dive, and over the roar of the engine, over the sound of the robot trying to move its arm to smash the plane, Cuphead heard familiar shotgun blasts. The plane pulled out of the dive and launched a barrage of fire on the robot’s leg.

“You’ll have to find the contract by digging through the scrap but I’m sure you don’t mind, right?” Hilda teased. Cuphead, too gob smacked to reply, just weakly nodded.

\---0---0---0---

“You have exactly one second to—Times up!” Bon Bon fired off a “warning” shot that skimmed the air directly above Kahl’s head. She had the look of a woman determined to mount a doctors head on her mantle. The fact that her waffle guard’s syrup had utterly jammed the gears that would lower the platform into a safe room was only more unfortunate for Kahl. He gave a sneer in return.

“You crude carnies don’t have it in you to actually assault an old man.” He snapped. Mugman had been stuck like Cuphead, entirely surprised but beyond elated.

“Hi Aunt Bon Bon.” He said. She returned his greeting with a sweet smile. The gunfire from a plane overhead covered her response but the kind tone carried over the sound. Her shotgun didn’t waver, nor did her aim. She arched one lone perfectly iced eyebrow, then angled her gun, and opened fire again. Kahl’s arm was turned into a mockery of swiss cheese.

“Your contract and my nephew, or your life. Take your pick, old timer. I heard that flower on Isle one needed new fertilizer. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a _carnie_ giving him a hand.” She pointedly turned the muzzle so Kahl was staring down its barrel.

Kahl got the impression he’d antagonized the wrong people.

\---0---0---0---

The plane arced into the air, pulling into a corkscrew and evading the blast of the mouth cannon. Evidently that thing didn’t just have lasers, nor was it a creature of peace. The plane’s wings had scorch marks on them but were holding firm thus far. She’d managed to take down one of its legs, its only remaining arm, and was in the process of trying to tear into the main body. Unfortunately, the hull was thick and the bullets only left tiny dents. Cuphead was getting nervous. He wanted to help, but couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out how. Then, just as the plane was going for another round of fire, a bright enhancement rune lit up the air in the path of the bullets.

The bullets, which, when before they left tiny dents, ripped through the steel frame with startling ease. The left wing, which had taken a hit and had been smoking, was repaired in one quick burst of light. Hilda Berg let out a demented laugh.

“Oh you’ve learned new tricks!” She called out, then turned the plane into another dive. “I’m going to drop you off now, I’ll keep the suppressing fire going, you see if Baroness found the contract too. Kid you better follow through and win our freedom from that furball or I swear I’m turning you into powder!” Hilda didn’t wait for a reply before she yanked the plane into another corkscrew. When the plane was upside down, Cuphead pushed off and crashed back onto the ground. His landing was softened by a wash of light pink magic.

“Hiya Cuphead! Auntie Bon Bon has a Gatling gun!” Mugman, fully put together again, pointed at the woman beside him, in his other hand was the contract. She had the beast of a weapon aimed square at the robot’s remaining leg. A manic grin split her face. Mugman was swept into a hug by his brother and returned it readily. His fully repaired arms wrapped tightly around Cuphead’s shoulders. Cuphead pulled back, gave Mugman a cursory glance to be sure, already aware that his magic would have fixed him by now, then turned to Baroness. She gave him a sweet pat on his head, then opened fire. It sounded like someone tearing paper, really loud, really angry paper. The enhancement rune that flashed to life gave the bullets extra strength. Her gun alone sheered off the robots last support.

Answering gunfire from the plane ripped a neat line in the robot’s body via the rune as well. Cuphead, finally seeing his chance, darted forward, hefting up the other leg that had fallen earlier. Mugman called to his magic, furious at being suppressed as it was, it had exactly zero problem dredging up another rune. Cuphead got into a batter’s position, then took a swing. The leg slammed into the robots midsection so hard the remaining innards and outer shell holding it together stood even less chance against Cuphead and Mugman’s combined effort than it had against two women with heavy artillery.  

It was almost comical watching the robot topple over. One second it had an upper half, the next, that upper half was soaring off into the distance. Hilda spared a fly-by to wave to them, then headed back to her observatory to rest. Baroness gave each a kiss on the forehead, as well as handed over her Gatling gun.

“Here you go boys, stash this thing away, just in case. You pour sugar into it instead of bullets. So as long as you don’t run out of sugar you won’t run out of ammo.” She told them, then she ushered them out of the remains of Kahl’s junkyard.

Far below, Kahl stood frozen as a statue. Inkwell sent a few birds to “decorate”. Given a few days, Kahl would thaw and be good as new, unharmed but likely hungry. Until then, he’d be stuck with his glasses shoved up his nose and all of his hair relocated into his ears.

\---0---0---0---

Cuphead gave his brother a piggy-back ride to let him rest. Baroness waved them off and headed for the bridge, eager to return home to be sure that Beppi was still helping Djimmi lick his wounds and not causing mass chaos. Grim Matchstick waited for her at the bridge, ready to give her a quick ride back to her home. Her subjects would return via the teleportation spell her castle had attached to it. The brothers made a quick stop at Porkrind’s once more, to obtain plenty of sugar that Mugman tiredly added to his magic storage with the gun.

While Mugman snoozed, Cuphead spared an hour in Porkrind’s shop to regain his bearings and decide who was next. They had three names left. Porkrind suggested he go for Sally Stageplay next.

“She’s eccentric, but if you impress her theatrically, you’ve got a solid chance of getting her to hand over the contract. I don’t think anyone on these isles missed that dogfight with Kahl. I’m willing to bet you’ve got a good chance of getting in easy, then it’s a matter of either winning her contract fair or finding it while she’s distracted.” He had rumbled. Cuphead had taken his words to heart. After the hour of rest, he picked his brother up, and headed out, hopeful that Sally would be more like Grim than any of the other women they’d fought thus far. If he could have just one other contract grab that didn’t wind up with him fighting, he’d be grateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The robot, or rather, the souls powering it, made a deal to get emotion back. Devil, in his infinite wisdom, gave it the exact emotions to make it a demented little shit. As such, it only cares about Kahl because he's the creator and the only source of entertainment. Kahl, in case you didn't pick up on it, is not a good man. If the genre of this tale was scarier, he'd probably be the goriest of all the bosses. Maybe I'll write a true horror version of these bosses at some point. Who knows.  
> That's right, Hilda survived! And came back guns blazing. She was won over by Cala Maria, who figured the more help the brothers had, the more likely she wouldn't regret giving her contract over. Auntie Bon Bon also makes a reappearance. See, I figured she wouldn't be stuck on isle 2 like the root pack are stuck on isle 1 therefore, she's entirely able and willing to help out. Go ahead punk. Mess with her boys. See what it gets you. She ain't no auntie chalice, she ain't stuck in no lame jar. Boy it's lucky the brothers have managed to win over a few of the bosses. These fights would suck a whole lot more otherwise!  
> Who here is excited for Sally Stageplay? Will they add another aunt to their arsenal of aunts? Who knows! No...seriously.. Who knows.. I sure as hell don't.


	15. Stage plays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playing hide and seek with a piece of paper is harder than it seems, at least that's how Cuphead feels. His brother is too tired to care.

The moment he walked into her theater he was immediately overtaken by all the activity flooding the place. Everyone was hurrying helter-skelter around, not a single soul was stationary. He turned his head, wondering if the cacophony of sounds had woken his brother. It hadn’t, he was still peacefully snoozing away, face pressed into Cuphead’s neck, hat askew on his head. Or, it was. A vivacious woman louder than the others in the building seemed to appear out of nowhere. She plucked his brother from his surprised grip and cheered.

“The understudy has arrived!” She shouted, handing his brother off to a pair of men who carted him towards the door marked ‘Backstage’. “It’s about time you got here! I swear I go through scouts like my husband goes through coffee. One minute more and I’d fire you on the spot!” She wagged her finger in front of his dazed face.

“S-sorry?” He stuttered, mind blank. She whirled away, her blonde hair swaying with the action.

“Alright, we’ve got fifteen minutes before dress rehearsal starts! Get that stage set up in ten!” She shouted, vanishing back into the crowd. Cuphead remained frozen, his arms still in the position they were in when he was carrying his brother.

“Rehearsal?” He whispered, confusion only growing when someone started scolding him for lazing about instead of helping build the set. He was pulled into the whirlwind without any chance to complain.

\---0---0---0---

Next thing he knew he was holding three props up in their correct spots while a couple of stagehands tied the ropes in place. They didn’t question his strength, he didn’t question what in Inkwell’s name was going on. From what he could tell, the play they’d be doing was a version of Sleeping Beauty. He was just about to start questioning what his brother had been mistaken as an understudy for, until he spotted his dazed and sleepy brother being ushered out. Though, based on his brother’s new ensemble, he’d have to start calling him his _sister._ But damn if he didn’t pull that look off _well._ How they’d found a wig to match his hair color he’d never know. In a way, he didn’t want to find out, it was more magical that way.

The blonde woman was handing his brother a script, quietly pointing out the lines he’d be saying. Mugman, tired as he was, as what always happened, went along with it. A sleepy Mugman was an obedient Mugman. He’d once gotten his brother to make him as many pancakes as ingredients allowed. Elder had been forced to slog through fifty, glaring at Cuphead the entire time while a confused Mugman had asked what tornado had swept through the kitchen. Sure, after being told what had gone down, Mugman had chased Cuphead around with the cast iron pan but the ensuing forced clean up had been _worth it._

So, it came to no surprise that the crew had gotten him to put on a pretty, almost regal dress, make up, and a wig. They’d even managed to compliment the blue in his skin and hair, it was frankly impressive. He so badly wished they had one of those new cameras right now, memories couldn’t be used for blackmail after all. Mugman, sleepy, doe eyed Mugman, just studied the paper with all the determination of a drunk toddler.

“Just those lines in the first half, then you pretend to sleep for basically the rest of the play. We all know who the real star of this show is, and that’s my part. Also, you don’t fit the dragon costume.” She explained to Mugman, voice carrying due to the way the stage was built.

“Only pretend?” Mugman gained the look of a person who’d been told their favorite pet had just died. The woman cooed, pat his head, and rephrased herself.

“Or actually sleep, Whichever works for you. Just be sure you’re awake for when the prince’s knight comes to wake you.”

“I thought it was the prince?”

“No, I eat the prince, he’s rude, in the play that is.” The fact that she said the last part like an afterthought made him want to find the prince and see how rude the guy was.

“But that’s bad, eating people will go right to your hips.” Mugman gave her the most heartfelt worried expression Cuphead had ever seen on him, as if he was _truly_ worried for her weight. A few stagehands swooned. Cuphead let out a painful snort. Sleepy Mugman was best Mugman, if anyone tried really waking his brother up right now he’d throttle them.

“Okay, go study your lines for a bit longer, you won’t be needed until the ten-minute mark. Don’t worry, the script keeper will make sure you’re queued when necessary. This is just rehearsal, and _hopefully_ the proper actress will be here on time. In case she isn’t, we need you treating this like _you’ll_ be the one on stage, because you just might be.” With that pep-talk, she was turning Mugman back to the other actors and stagehands willing to help him practice. His brother shuffled along, bleary-eyed and barely holding back a yawn. Cuphead was forced to continue helping out around the stage, so he wasn’t able to get back to his brother before the play began.

The second he got the chance, he snuck off. He’d use this time to try hunting for the contract, not sure if Mugman would be able to fight in his current condition. 

\---0---0---0---

As he heard the stage settle, and as he managed to get people to forget he existed, he slipped towards the back area. He hoped that he’d find the contract hidden among the rooms. The first room he came across looked like it was a makeup room. It also looked like Beppi had eaten Bon Bon’s castle and projectile vomited across the entire space. Color was just about near everywhere, even on the doorknob. He dug through drawers, pawed under desks, anywhere he could think it would be. He even scampered up the sturdiest looking mirrors to check the ceiling. Finding nothing, and thoroughly sparkly all over, he eased back out, trying to avoid drawing any attention.

“Where’s Djimmi?!” He heard the blond woman shriek; quite easy considering rehearsal had started. He quietly cackled to himself, remembering the sorry state they’d left the carnival worker in.  There was a quiet answer given to her, seemingly enough to soothe her, because she followed up in a far calmer manner.

“Alright, everyone pause for ten! Puphead you said? Get back stage to get fitted. Djimmi’s lucky I’m in a good mood or I’d march over there, rip his eyes out and serve them to him.” She griped. Cuphead, thrown entirely off by the odd name, poked his head out from around the corner to see into the larger backstage area. There, looking entirely fixed up, was the puppet creature they’d torn into while fighting the Djinn. Cuphead’s jaw dropped, had it been like Mugman’s it would have come clean off. He dazedly watched the doll be led towards the costume room. Cuphead, panicking and unwilling to be spotted so soon, dove into the nearest room beside the makeup room.

He shut the door to the bathrooms before the thing had spotted him, or at least he hoped he had escaped notice. He wound up half-heartedly searching the bathrooms anyway, just in case, while waiting for the costume room directly across from him to become vacant. How the thing, Puphead _apparently,_ was even moving around so far away from Djimmi he had no clue. Last he checked the thing was a replica of them designed to make the fight “impossible”. Whatever the case, it was clear that the puppet was now either independent of Djimmi, or Djimmi had the best ventriloquist abilities he’d ever seen.

He was going to have to watch out for the thing while looking for the contract.

\---0---0---0---

Two rooms later, still nothing. Then Cuphead heard his brother talking, and got interested. He crept back over to behind the curtain, mixing with the other stagehands watching the proceedings. On stage it looked like a man dressed like a king was talking to Puphead while his brother stood beside a woman who looked like a queen. He was facing his brother so he could see the tiny motions of a Mugman trying to keep his eyes open. It’d be funnier if he wasn’t so suddenly terrified to realize Puphead was near his vulnerable sibling. There was no way the wig and makeup was throwing the thing off.

“Sir Knight, I thank you for your offer to aid the three fairies in guarding my fair daughter from the curse. You will be justly rewarded with whatever you shall want if Briar Rose makes it past her sixteenth birthday.” The kings voice was impressively powerful. Cuphead had no problem picturing the guy as a king.

“Go prepare for a long journey Sir Knight,” The queen spoke up, “It will be two years before we see you once more if all goes well. You are the best in our guard, so I’ve full faith you will be able to fend off any fiendish attempts. Fair luck to you.” With that, the curtains slid closed so the stage could prepare for the next scene. The blonde woman strode out onto the stage, nudging his brother toward side stage where more stagehands waited to cart him to the costume room. Cuphead was dragged into helping set up. Before he even realized it he was pulling an entire backdrop up while the next one descended. From the corner of his eye he spotted Puphead following behind the group surrounding his brother.

By the time he got free again, the next scene was beginning. He had lost sight of both his brother and Puphead and was blatantly unhappy about this fact. Half of him wanted to find Mugman, try to wake him up a bit more or something. The other wanted to find the contract faster. His big brother side won out in the end. Had Elder been there he’d have remarked that he wasn’t surprised.

Cuphead had hoped that being a porcelain doll would make it easier to find Mugman, especially with a weird puppet thing next to him. That proved to not be the case however, because it took him four minutes of searching to finally find the two sitting on a couch near some of the other actors. He snuck closer until he could hear them talk, unwilling to break his cover so soon without having the contract in hand.

“It’s truly endearing to see you again fair lady.” Cuphead froze, even his soul liquid stopped flowing, everything stopped.

“I forgot who you are.” Mugman replied, still clearly half asleep. Cuphead never should have let his brother use so much magic in that last fight. The second Mugman learned time magic he was going to request he go back in time so he could smack himself.

“That’s fair, I didn’t leave as much of an impression on you as you did me, sweet bluebell.” Was… Was the puppet thing flirting with his brother because he thought Mugman was a girl? Cuphead didn’t know, he sort of didn’t want to know, he _did_ want to throttle Puphead if the jerk tried anything, contract be damned.

“Shall we go over our lines? Sally Stageplay _did_ request we treat this like our own performance. What better way to enhance the performance than to increase our chemistry?” From his position behind a horse prop, he watched the puppet kiss a lock of Mugman’s hair. Mugman just stared, likely confused.

“That’s not real hair, silly.” Mugman had a lost, not all there look on his face. “Or… or is it?” He quietly whispered, gaining a little bit of horror to his current expression. Puphead gave the hair an honest bit of focus, then shrugged.

“It suits you.” He finally said. Cuphead shoved his face into his hands, trying to muffle a scream. Deciding he had to leave before he broke their cover, he slunk off, shooting one last warning glare at Puphead that the puppet didn’t see.

\---0---0---0---

Three more rooms coming up empty left Cuphead frustrated. He was starting to think the contract was on Sally Stageplay, and if that was the case he’d have no chance of finding it without a fight. He went to open the next door, likely another closet, only to find the door wouldn’t open. Entirely fed up with his current hunt, there was no way he was adding ‘key’ to the list. One quick twist and the lock sheared off into his hand. He groaned, thumping his head on the door.

Scavenging through the broom closet produced the same results as the last rooms, negative. His only hopeful thought was that he’d yet to run into any offices. The other bonus was that Mugman hadn’t seen his big brother flail like a loser after being surprised by a prop squirrel that _had_ been stuck to the tree he’d climbed. Had being the operative word there. It was now buried in another prop, the victim of a panicked smack.

He figured it couldn’t hurt to check back on the play, considering he couldn’t find the three women dressed like fairies he assumed it was one of his brother’s scenes. Creeping back amongst the actors, all of whom were giggling, he used his petite height to his advantage. The current scene was in a forest setting. Which didn’t tell Cuphead much of anything considering he’d never read the story.

The blonde woman was back on stage, this time she was trying to quickly show Mugman how to dance. Cuphead snorted, Mugman already knew how to dance, but a sleepy Mugman generally could only remember how to do one or two things. He was told to act, so he knew he had to act. He was told he’d get to sleep soon, so that’s what was keeping him motivated. Dancing would be lost on him until he woke back up. Still, Mugman took the re-learning lessons readily enough, doing adequate for his condition.

Cuphead, properly soothed, was about to turn from the scene to continue looking until he saw Puphead step up to take over being the lead. The puppet spun his brother in dramatic twirls that the woman hadn’t been showing, at least not as far as he could see.

A few actors nervously stepped away from the weird crouching stagehand currently mauling a doorknob.

 Cuphead wasn’t annoyed that someone was flirting with his brother, usually that meant free entertainment for him because Mugman was terrible at distinguishing between friendly conversations and flirting. He _wasn’t_ happy with this because this was a sleepy Mugman’s docile nature being taken advantage of. Awake Mugman would have been giving Puphead the cold shoulder, since he was an enemy.  Puphead, as if sensing the more hostile audience, dramatically dipped Mugman low, then leaned closer until his nose brushed against Mugman’s. Mugman let out a quiet “Wheeee!”

A few of the actors cooed, finding the added flair cute. Cuphead was debating the worth of going back to get the squirrel and shoving it down Puphead’s throat. He saw two actors dressed like a bear awkwardly stomp onto the stage. He hoped that this was where the knight died in a mauling incident. Instead his brother giggled.

“That’s not a real bear… This is though!” And with that dazed declaration, the two actors were replaced with an actual bear. It roared, the nearest actors screamed in horror, the blonde woman cheered. Puphead looked between the actual animal and what was likely a fake sword, evidently seeing a problem his sleep addled brother did not. Cuphead loved his brother sometimes.

“Uh… Well, fear not? Briar Rose! I shall fend this creature off—” The bear, not liking being surrounded by fake trees, shook the stage with another thunderous roar. It heaved itself up onto two feet, easily dwarfing the two on stage.

“Oh hell no.” Cuphead heard one of the three fairies who’d been waiting to be called back on stage declare.

“Don’t worry, I’m… a princess! I’m gonna soothe it.” Mugman spoke with all the determination of a half-asleep kid pretending to be a princess. Cuphead smacked his forehead, Puphead gave a strangled wheeze. Mugman took a flying leap onto the bears chest, the bear, rightly confused, tried to get him off, but he was in just the right position to avoid the claws. The blonde woman was frantically writing things down on a script. A strange hum began to fill the air, Cuphead hoped it was Mugman’s magic doing something to fix its tired owner’s mistake. Instead the bear went from visibly angry, to visibly content. It began padding around the stage with Mugman dangling from its neck.

“Nailed it.” Mugman said, still near-dozing but fully proud, and muffled in bear fur. Puphead just went with it, improvisation a strong suit of his apparently.

“You have! This should be a boon in case the evil fairy sends her minions to the cottage.” He said, but pointedly did not approach the bear. It waddled off stage, deciding to end the scene on its own. The actors scampered out of the way of the animal, Puphead was torn between following and getting directions from the blonde woman dressed in an elaborately dramatic black and dark violet gown. She looked the happiest about the change in script out of everyone in the theater. Cuphead, seizing his chance, darted back to follow the bear and his brother. He caught up right as the bear began sniffing at the snack bar.

“Mugs! What were you thinking?” He hissed, if the bear decided to take a swing he was going to tear his brother off and swing the beast through the roof. His brother peeked at him from the smelly comfort of the wild animal’s pelt.

“I have named him Bertie.” Mugman replied, looking exactly two seconds away from falling back asleep. The hum had long since faded, but the bear seemed far more content to relax with its passenger than maul the queen actress hoarding the pigs-in-a-blanket. The woman looked just as ready to fight the bear as Cuphead.

“Bertie has to go Mugs, you can’t keep the bear here.” Cuphead edged closer, voice firm, but not mean. Mugman returned with a whiny, long held out no. “If you don’t send it back I will, and I don’t think my method is survivable. But I tell you what, if you remember Bertie when you wake up again you can bring him back. I’m sure Elder won’t mind.” He was actually sure Elder would tear off his shirt and try wrestling with the bear, old, far more frail body or not. He’d seen the bear pelt in Elder’s room. Mugman didn’t need to know this. He just needed to send the bear away, which, he wound up doing anyway. Though something told Cuphead that it was more Mugman’s magic than Mugman telling his magic to send it back.

Mugman mourned the loss for ten whole seconds, far longer than Cuphead thought he would. Then he promptly forgot about the bear, and started nodding off right where he stood. The clamor of armor didn’t even have the ability to wake Mugman up, the teleportation once more taking out the little alertness he’d managed to regain. Cuphead however, darted under the table cloth, he knew only one person currently wearing armor in the building. Sure enough, Puphead’s voice drifted through.

“I see you’ve got quite the magic touch! I hope I’ll be able to experience those magic hands of yours some day soon.” Cuphead gagged.

“Did…you get taller?” His brother responded, mind lost to the land of doze dreams.

“You noticed? I have indeed! I’ve asked my creator to increase my size, if you catch my drift.” Mugman gasped.

“Your creator makes high heels?” The queen across the table snorted, nearly choking on a tiny bread encrusted weenie.

“Yyyyes?” Puphead replied, confusion clear. Cuphead wished he’d grabbed the knife he’d seen on the table.

“I remember!” Mugman suddenly shouted, albeit in a strange hushed way. “I think I kicked you once.” Cuphead snorted, Mugman had done _way_ more than kick.

“Let us bury the past and instead look to our continued future together.” Cuphead would love to bury something sharp into Puphead if he used that purring tone again. Unaware of the audience, Puphead continued, stepping close enough to wrap one of his arms around Mugman’s waist. “Though we may be from different worlds, I cherish the knowledge of the sweet kiss we will share in the final act.”

“I don’t eat sweets… shhhhhh,” Mugman’s voice lowered, as if he was about to tell a secret. “I snuck honey  while in the factory, don’t tell Cuphead.” Cuphead would kill someone to have a recorder right now.

“I know a good way to keep my lips sealed.” Puphead’s response was smooth, Cuphead’s aborted desires to strangle the puppet were less so. Though he couldn’t see from his position, Mugman lifted his hands, holding Puphead’s cheeks in his glove covered palms. Mugman rested his arms against Puphead’s chest until his face was mere inches from Puphead’s.

“Staplers.” Mugman whispered in as plain a voice as his tired mind could manage. Then, satisfied he’d said his piece, he turned, crawled onto the nearest chair, and went right back to sleep. Puphead let out a shaky breath, staring at the blue brother with confused awe. As he stepped away to find something to cover Mugman with, he paused, confused as to why the table was letting out a sadistic, mocking laugh. Deciding to take a queue from the queen who was also edging away from the furniture, he continued on his mission.

Cuphead crawled out from his hiding spot, glared at Puphead’s retreating back, then ran off towards the back once more. He had four more doors to search through, and it sounded like the play was nearing the mid-point. He didn’t think he had much longer before the big things happened and he’d likely be dragged back into helping with the set-up. He’d be worried about losing precious minutes of their day but frankly the older brother in him was running full force and didn’t care.

He did pause to grab the squirrel though, anything to throw at the jerk next time he tried anything.

\---0---0---0---

Though he heard his brother once more on stage, he only paused enough to listen for any potential clues as to where they were in the play. He heard a loud thud, dramatic gasps, three women crying out “We’ve failed!”, and a person dressed like half a bear say “oh he’s really selling the ‘falling asleep’ thing.”

Safe to say they were midway through the play. His brother would also likely be completely out, so Puphead would have no more banter to share, and no reason to go near him. Cuphead, comfortable with the knowledge that the weird puppet would leave his brother be, he continued his hunt.

 The rubber chicken he stepped on two doors later was added to his arsenal, if only to punish it for making him shriek.

\---0---0---0---

He was wrong, he was so wrong, he was blisteringly wrong. Coming back out of the last room, realizing that the offices were on the second floor, he had returned to see Puphead pinning Mugman to a wall, script in one hand, Mugman’s free hand in the other. Meanwhile Mugman was poking Puphead’s nose, giggling at the way it made Puphead go cross eyed to follow his finger. The rubber chicken sailed through the air like an avenging angel. It clucked Puphead upside the head with such precision he didn’t even have a chance to move his arms away from Mugman.

Unfortunately for Cuphead, Puphead dragged Mugman down with him, so now Mugman was asleep on Puphead’s chest. Puphead, pinned, with a rubber chicken covering his eyes, hair in his mouth, looked completely fine with the turn of events. He looked distinctly disappointed when a couple of actors helped him back up. The king actor rested Mugman on one of the couches, covering him with his cape.

“Kids these days,” The king said, chuckling. The queen pulled a squashed pig-in-a-blanket from her bodice, took a bite, and agreed with her fellow ‘royal.’

Cuphead should have known the chicken was a traitor.

\---0---0---0---

He finally, after much lock-breaking and hair pulling, found the offices. The first one he went into nearly scared him _again_. Right on the back wall was a cardboard cutout of the blonde woman currently proclaiming her rightful hatred of the king for being rude out on stage. The cutout was holding up a picture frame that held the contract. In its other hands were the words “the day I played the Devil” proudly inscribed on a parchment paper. Far too fed up to care about the beauty of it all, he broke the glass, yanked the paper out, stuffed it under his shirt, turned on his heel and left.

He just wanted to get out, maybe punch Puphead if he got the chance, return to Isle two, punch Djimmi in the throat… He’d decide once he got out, brother in tow. A familiar shade of blue had him pausing right outside the costume room. On a table was his brothers hat, figuring Mugman would be upset if he left it there, he picked it up, stuffed it under his shirt as well, then went to see where the play was.

Unfortunately for him, his brother was out on stage, so he’d have to wait. His brother was on a luxurious looking bed tucked in the corner of the stage while the blonde woman declared her intent to show the king and prince the error of their arrogance.

Now, something Cuphead had noticed a while ago, was that on occasion, Mugman’s magic seemed to nudge him, like it was about to pull a prank, and it wanted both him and Mugman watching. He bet he could feel it because the magic had been used to bind his soul to the body he was in in the first place. Mugman, currently, was down for the count, he was dozing away. So it was Cuphead that felt the odd brush of magic in his soul. His soul replied with a deep sense of foreboding.

“I will show just how foolish you are to anger a fairy, Behold my draconian form!” She rose her arms into the air, and he figured now would be the time when a bunch of smoke would fill the stage and she’d be hidden behind a prop. Instead, Mugman, who was more awake than they’d thought, heard ‘dragon’ and his magic’s ‘prankster request’ rolled with it. Before everyone’s eyes, the woman was replaced with a pitch-black dragon. The rather surprised dragon screeched out hellfire violet in color. Luckily for the props, the fire did nothing.

Cuphead and the rest of the theater stared in open-mouthed shock.

“Oh, oh dear, this…” The dragon spoke with the blonde woman’s voice. Sally sounded rather surprised. “Wonderful! Simply wonderful! The drama, the show!” She leaned down to put her maw full of razor sharp teeth right next to the bed with a half-awake mage. “You are simply wonderful little understudy!” She cheered, thick scaly tail wagging, knocking over three people.

This time it wasn’t just Cuphead that facepalmed.

She breathed fire on the king, resuming her part in the play. The violet fire wrapped around the man, then he was gone. There was a surprised shout from behind them, in the costume room. Out stumbled the king, completely unharmed but dazed. The prince soon followed, screaming how he’d avenge his father-in-law, marry the fair princess, and wear the evil queen’s skin as a coat. He was gobbled up, or in magic terms, dropped off on one of the couches in the back. The dragon eyed the knight, huffed like it decided he wasn’t worth it, then tried to vanish. Unfortunately, Sally had no real way of walking back stage, because she was too big to fit. There was an awkward cough from somewhere behind the scenes.

Cuphead, tried hissing Mugman’s name as quietly as he could, hoping that maybe his magic would hear him at the very least. He, and everyone else, were drawn back to the two across the stage.

“As the dragon as blessed it, I shall use a kiss to awaken you, fair princess!” Puphead, improving like no tomorrow, looked between the dragon woman and the prone form on the bed. The dragon shrugged, not really knowing what else to do, but already thinking of ways to make an even more dramatic exit befitting an evil fairy. Puphead leaned in, Cuphead pulled the squirrel out. Puphead pulled his brother closer, Cuphead assumed the sprinters position.

Just before Puphead could press his lips to his brother’s, Cuphead sprinted out on stage, launched himself onto the bed, yanked his brother into his arms, and waved the squirrel in Puphead’s face like it was a sword. It may have been because he’d been in a theater for around an hour hunting for a contract, but he decided to add a flair of his own to his escape.

“Back! No creepy knight is going to take advantage of my dear sister’s vulnerable state! Back I say!” He then leapt off the bed, keeping the squirrel between him and a wide-eyed Puphead. With one wide swing, he threw the squirrel at Puphead, jumped off the stage, and ran off out the exit doors. Mugman by this time had startled awake.

“Cuphead what are you doing? Where are my clothes?” His little brother’s question had him skidding to a halt, shoes scraping the sidewalk. He gave Mugman a sheepish look while dropping him back onto the pavement. Mugman, hair disheveled, dress sparkling in the light. His makeup doing nothing to hide the less than impressed glare he sported. Cuphead, because it was _something_ , whipped out the hat with a single “Ah ha!”

Mugman’s less than impressed glare descended into a dark glare.

“You ran out of the theater without grabbing my clothes _or_ letting me give the dress back?” Cuphead winced, wielding the hat like one would a shield.

“I got your hat.” Cuphead knew that was the wrong thing to say even as it came out. Unfortunately, his mouth ran before his brain could reel it in. The dark glare was complimented by a purple glow surrounding Mugman’s hands.

\---0---0---0---

Mugman strode back the way they came, pausing when he saw Puphead leaning on the door frame. Puphead looked between him and the tiny piglet staring dejectedly at the ground from Mugman’s arms. He grinned, made sure the pig was watching, and blew a kiss to Mugman. Returning his gaze to Cuphead, he spoke.

“See you later, _future brother-in-law._ ” Without waiting for a response from either brother, he slipped back into the theater, cheers being silenced by the closing door. The piglet squealed in blind rage, tiny hooves wiggling ineffectively in the air. Mugman rolled his eyes at the display. He wondered if he’d be able to teleport the clothing onto himself or if he’d have to go all the way back to Porkrind to get a new set of clothing. As an answer, the dress vanished from his frame, replaced by his clothing left behind in the theater. The wig was also gone, likely put back. The makeup was still there though, and he wouldn’t realize it until he glanced at a window display.

The makeup, as well as his brother turned piglet, would remain where/as they were until they’d managed to find the second to last debtor, some man that went by the name Werner Werman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did Puphead flirt with Mugman to annoy Cuphead or because he genuinely has a crush? Who knows! Well, Djimmi and Puphead do, but they aren't talking. I don't ship the brother's with anyone though, so there will be no endgame romance with anyone and the brothers. In case this chapter had anyone worried. I'm pretty neutral to every other ship but snake eyes if I'm being entirely honest. Well, snake eyes and Sally and her husband. "But why not put her actual in-game play instead then?" you ask? And lose my one opportunity to put Mugman in a dress? I think the fuck not.
> 
> Sally stageplay sold her soul to have every single prop she could ever want available whenever she needed it. 
> 
> Two souls left until the casino! Who's excited?


	16. Tombstone rats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Werner's turn.

The house was nondescript. It was almost worrying considering all the weird stuff they’d gone through. Still, they were two away from being done, Mugman’s face was clean courtesy of a quick pitstop near the water behind the house, and Cuphead was no longer a piglet. The brothers stared at the door, unsure of how to approach. Knocking would be awkward, at the very least. Unsure of what else to do, they approached the yard, hoping it wouldn’t be anything like Kahl. The moment they stepped onto the grass, the door ahead creaked open. The brother’s paused, even more out of their depth. Cautiously, Cuphead took the lead, big brother code dictating he had to.

Mugman heard the noise first. Back when they’d been fleshy children, the noise usually heralded their father and him running for the nearest counter in fright. When Mugman got sick, the sound meant someone had died and the nurses were too slow in taking the body away. Cuphead hadn’t been scared of the noise or what made it. So when he noticed his brother paling, he couldn’t quite figure out what the problem was. Then, the first tiny, oddly ethereal form popped out from the doorway.

It was a rat. A ghost rat. The thing was see-through, floated off the doorstep, and joined by more and more of its kind. All the rat had to do was leap over the stairs and land on the sidewalk in front of the brother’s for Mugman to react. He shrieked, jumping into his brothers’ arms. Cuphead stumbled back in surprise. It squeaked, which summoned the other rats. It looked like a river of mist. In response to its owner’s terror, Mugman’s magic cracked open the necromancy tactic. Green and yellow lightning struck down from the sky, ripping gouges into the grass. Cuphead nearly cracked his brother’s thigh from how hard he jolted.

The ghost rats vanished. Mugman peeked from his awkward curled up position to check if things were safe.

Things were not.

The ground shook, Inkwell gave a confused hum, then, the ground burst open. Thousands of tiny bodies in varying states of decay squeaked their way towards their summoner. Mugman lost it. One second he was in Cuphead’s arms, twisted around his head, the next, he was on the clock post. Cuphead would have thought it impressive had he not been surrounded by confused rat corpses. Had Mugman’s magic had a physical form, it would have been hovering next to the pole, hands raised in an aborted attempt to soothe, distressed noises pouring from it. The rats converged instead, going from swarming Cuphead to swarming the pole. Cuphead was about to try and help, how, he wasn’t sure, but his brother was starting to cry.

Angry cursing in a language he didn’t know distracted him. A man, wearing an odd helmet and over-all’s stomped onto the doorstep. He squinted at Cuphead. He squinted at the sea of rat corpses. He squinted at Mugman. He was not impressed.

“Mein Gott, enough with ze screaming!” He shouted, tossing something into the swarm. “I’ve collected zose specimens for years!” There was a great boom, bits of rat rained down on the rest below. Cuphead stared at the man, Werner, most likely, in shock. Werner looked like he was about to toss another grenade full of whatever so Cuphead, not willing to let the man risk blowing up his brother, knocked it back out of the air towards the man. He cursed loudly, slamming the door just as the cannister hit the wood. The door held up impressively to the ensuing blast, Cuphead would give whoever made it credit.

Werner yanked open the door once more, his stance taut.

“You rude puppe! I am in ze middle of a breakthrough! You are interrupting _genius. Vorse zan zose nosy neighbors._ ” The scruffy man shouted, accent heavy. Cuphead figured at that moment that the faster he punched the guy the faster they could get the soul contract, although, he didn’t see it from where he was. Mugman was crackling again, magic apparently deciding to try a new tactic to soothe the blue doll.

“Excuse you?” Cuphead shouted, stomping towards the man. “Do I look like that ventriloquist reject?”

The man was less than impressed by the angry doll storming towards him, he reached for something behind the door, hit it, then the next thing Cuphead knew he was staring at his own body. Mid stride, it was frozen, eyes no longer lit up by his soul, porcelain colorless.

“None of zat, you polterpuppe. Hostile, angry ghosts are not allowed.” The man snapped. Cuphead, now floating above the ground, looking exactly as he had before he died, looked at his small hands. Pale, almost skeletal, his body covered in ill-fitting hospital clothes. From above, Mugman screamed in a different kind of horror.

“What did you do to Cuphead!?” Mugman cried out, forgetting the rats who were turning to face Werner with the remains of beady black eyes. The ones closest to the house looked like they were struggling to stay in their bodies. His magic growled.

“I don’t zink you vill understand. Vhy don’t you come closer and find out?” The sinister way Werner spoke only made Mugman more angry than scared. Cuphead slowly sank to the ground next to his body’s feet, shaking with building residual terror.

“I am ze poltergeist expert of all ze Isles. Zo I don’t know vhy you are here, it vas—” The rats, all at the same time, let out their equivalent of a war cry. The air around them shuddered, the ground shook, Mugman _stared_ at Werner. The blinding hostility was more than enough to send a shiver of unease through Werner, even if he hadn’t been unnerved by the rats charging him. He tried slamming the door closed, only to find his door suddenly gone.

He ran back into his home, foreign curses pouring from his lips as he ran for hopeful cover. The rats converged on the thing Werner had messed with before. Thousands of half-rotted or ghostly teeth chewed through the walls, aiming for the wiring within. Mugman, meanwhile, slid down the pole, taking a few steps towards his brother until he felt a strange tug on his soul. He froze, unsure as to whether it was a good idea to continue forward. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Death. He fixed the same stare he had given Werner onto Death. Though really, all he had to do was mouth ‘round two?’ to make Death toss their rat soul filled arms into the air and make a hasty retreat.

There was a sharp zap sound from the house, some rats were blasted down the hallway entrance, but the odd pull stopped. Mugman’s magic gave a lurch that had his soul feeling ill. The result, however, was Cuphead’s soul vanishing back into the doll, pulled by the residual bonds of magic that tied it down in the first place. Mugman swept the still shaking red doll into his arms in a tight hug. Cuphead returned it for but a moment before pushing his brother away, mind swimming with building rage. The two could still hear screaming from inside. It would have been comical to see the man run back and forth to avoid an army of rats, growing stronger now that whatever thing had been tearing at their souls was no longer weighing them down. Instead, Cuphead was just angry. Angry, scared that it might happen again, even more scared that it would happen to his brother.

“Oh, he wants angry?” Cuphead growled, clenching his fists, eyes gleaming maliciously out from under his hat. Mugman, confused, watched Cuphead tread heavily up to the door way. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see Cuphead tear the entire front wall off of the house, but he was. Cuphead launched it into the air, sending it as far from Inkwell as he could.

\---0---0---0---

Somewhere, ten miles away, a simple farmer had the fright of his life when pieces of a house destroyed his corn crops. Fearing that it was raining house, he’d stay indoors for two days before deeming it safe. Unfortunately, he’d never have an explanation for a house assaulting his corn.

\---0---0---0---

Mugman watched his brother rip into the house with aggression he hadn’t seen in a while. He’d been just as upset to see his brother so unhappy, thus, he didn’t stop Cuphead’s rampage. Werner would wish he had, when he found himself on the receiving end of a gut shot that knocked four ribs lose, nearly snapped his spine, and a follow-up kick that decimated not only his pelvis, but his hopes of having children, however tiny that hope was.

“Soul contract. Hand it over.” Cuphead snapped, holding a broken table leg like a bat. Werner glared at him, spit up blood, then coughed. The coughing turned to laughing, even as the rats began to swarm on top of him. Though they didn’t bite, the threat was very clear.

“Immortality vas part of ze contract. I cannot _die._ ” He spat, grinning through the blood pouring out his mouth. Even now, over the sound of thousands of tiny rat feet, the sound of bones snapping back into place could be heard. Cuphead, still seething, planted his foot on Werner hard enough to break his sternum.

“Immortal, not _invulnerable_. That means,” Cuphead hefted Werner up by the man’s collar, chasing the rats away with the motion. “All I have to do is stick you into your houses wiring. While you fry, I’ll just take my time looking for that contract. You look the hermit type, how long do you think it’ll take for those _nosy neighbors_ to find you and get help?” Cuphead sounded far too enthusiastic considering the story look on his face.

 Werner shakily pulled a piece of paper out, dropping it to the floor near Cuphead’s feet. Warily, Cuphead bent down to pick it up. The abrupt shrieking yowl from an enraged cat caused him to lash out in a panic.

The robotic feline that had been aiming to tear into his body became the first robot cat to see outer space. Sending an impressively unimpressed glare at Werner—who stared at the hole punched into his house from the cats hasty exit—Cuphead turned on his heel, contract in tow, and left. Mugman followed behind, sparing one last look at the shredded remains of the house. He was pretty sure Werner would be able to get to a hospital. If he didn’t, he’d apologize to Werner in Hell.

\---0---0---0---

“Why’d he even _have_ one of these things? What kind of ghost hunter or researcher or whatever sells his soul to the Devil for immortality of all things?” Cuphead grumbled, kicking a rock away from his path.

“I’m not sure? Then again, perhaps he wanted to see if it was possible? I’ve never seen a machine that can separate a soul from the body before. He must be like Dr. Kahl, one of those inventors.” Mugman mused, leafing through all the contracts to be sure they hadn’t missed all but the last.

“Whatever the reason, I’m still upset.” Cuphead glared at nothing as they walked. Mugman, hoping to help Cuphead blow off some steam, got an idea.

“Hey…I don’t think we’ve been to this Isle’s mausoleum yet. As it turns out, turning things into other things is actually very easy for me to do…” He paused to let Cuphead think about it, then continued. “Why, I bet I could turn the ghosts in that place to whatever silly thing you wanted.” He nudged his brother’s side, trying to gauge how effective his offer was. The contemplative hum was all the response he needed.

\---0---0---0---

Cuphead chose chickens. So, currently, the boys were surrounded by terrified ghost chickens. Mugman found it utterly hilarious, as did Chalice. Her current prison shook with her pleasant laughter. After all the ghosts had fled, clucking into the sunset, Chalice was freed. She quickly swept the boys up into a warm hug.

“Ohhhhh, you two are the best nephews I could ever ask for! You know, I died before I ever got to see my children grow up past the age of twenty.” She spoke with a distant look to her eye. The brothers leaned closer, ever willing to hear a story from their Auntie. She’d already taught Cuphead every last move she knew, giving him all sorts of tips in how to take down things larger than him. She’d tapped into Mugman’s soul as well, giving him far more access to his magic than he’d had before.  His soul and magic purred to the same frequency.

“What happened Auntie?” Mugman spoke up, catching her wistful gaze.

“While exploring an ancient tomb, a trap trapped me. I had been so determined to be that cool grandmother that I lost the chance to be one entirely. Leave it to my husband to pass his magic down to our daughter _before_ we went exploring that tomb. Actually, funnily enough Mugman, your magic reminds me an awful lot of my husbands. It’s far more tame though.” She mused, looking between the brothers.

“You boys wouldn’t happen to know of anyone with bright copper hair, would you? My husband and daughter both had the brightest red hair I’d ever seen.”

“Well, Mugs had penny copper hair when he was squishy. He got it from our mom. It made it real easy to find him since none of the other kids had that color.” Cuphead responded, scratching the back of his head idly. Chalice grabbed both brothers’ shoulders, startling them with her sudden movement. She began to glow with a soft golden light. The brothers felt something odd brush against their souls, Mugman felt his magic stir, poking at the foreign entity. It lazily shoved the intruder out, away from the far younger soul like a cat pushing an energetic kitten away.

“Boys.” She squeezed their shoulders, ensuring she had their full attention. “Call me grandma, there are _far_ too many ‘greats’ to add otherwise.”

“What?” Cuphead asked.

“What?” Mugman echoed.

“To keep it short, because I can see the sun is setting and you boys don’t have all the time in the world. I checked for any relation between your magic, your souls, and my lineage. I’m going to be the best grandmother in the _world._ But, while you’re off dealing with Devil, _I_ will be looking for my great-great-great grandson. He might know where my great-great-great granddaughter is. You mentioned he’s on a nearby isle? Perfect. Do me proud boys, go get that last soul.” She began ushering them out to the door, distracted by numerous plans running through her head.

“Honey!” She called out to a gold light growing brighter through a crack in the mausoleum floor. “Honey get the map, we’ve got great-great-great-great grandkids to spoil!”

“Finally! Took us long enough to find our family line. Your daughter is horrible with directions!”

“ _My_ daughter? You—"

Before the brothers could do much else but stare off into the fading sun, she closed the door, looking happier than anything else.

“…. Train.” Mugman weakly stated, wide-eyed gaze distant.

“Train.” Cuphead echoed, mechanically turning to face the mountain range where the last soul on their list was last seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing was like pulling teeth. Gods I swear it was impossible to figure out how to work the rat man. I settled on what you all read up there. He's an inventor, he wanted to see if immortality was a thing while he was studying death and how to make souls far more useful. A ghost assistant would probably be really handy to have around all things considered. The rats are the result of his experimentation.   
> I told y'all that Chalice is related to the boys. She died long before her great great great granddaughter gave birth to them and has been searching for her family ever since she got a pass to explore the world of the living. 
> 
> So! Phantom express is the last one up! Then it's to the casino. Anyone else excited to be at the edge of the ending for this story?  
> As a side note, I believe early in the story I urged you people to try guessing what King Dice was. I said he wasn't human, he doesn't have a body, but he does have a head. Now, to say that he always was just a head would be a lie. So, good luck figuring out what he is before I tell all.


	17. Tunnel Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have been waiting for this chapter since I got to Cagney's chapter. You all have no idea how painful it was to get stuck right before hitting this sweet deal because of a rat dude. It's the Phantom Expresses turn! Speed Demon Mugman is best Mugman.

Going back the way they’d gone, the same way that started the whole mess, almost made the brothers nostalgic. Almost. It was hard to remember near death experiences fondly. Still, as they flipped through the many contracts, they’d crack jokes now and again.

“Remember how you got adopted by the root pack because of the same thing that nearly killed Djimmi?”

“It didn’t nearly kill him, just… scared him a little. Speaking of, why did that puppet thing call you ‘future brother-in-law’?”

“It only got to say that because I couldn’t punch its jaw into the sun. I was too busy _oinking_.” Cuphead eyed Mugman with a playfully angry glare. Mugman sent the contracts back to the rune and pressed his hands to his cheeks.

“But the oinks were so cute! Do you think Elder will let us keep a pet pig? We could name him Porkington.”

“Don’t they get big?”

“So? Then we’d have a noble steed, I’m seeing no downsides here brother.”

“Right, so when we next ride into battle, we can outfit our glorious porker with armor and strike a need for bacon into our enemies.” Cuphead snarked, though there was no bite to his jovial tone. Mugman laughed, picturing the image but adding a growth spell to the mix. As they got to the bridge, they caught the odd sight of the train that had been in motion before, seemingly waiting for them. A far less luxurious looking rail-cart sat on the track next to it. The boys shared a look, wondering just what kind of antics they’d get into this time.

Once over the bridge, the train gave off an impossibly loud whistle. The brother’s flinched, feeling their bodies rattle from the volume.

“I hope that wasn’t an insult in train speak.” Cuphead whispered to Mugman, his brother in blue responded with a ponderous expression.

“If it was, I hope they know we’ll be returning the favor our own way.”

Next to the train stood a single, transparent, oddly ghoulish looking person. Getting closer told them what was wrong, the man in overalls had no eyes.

“I spy with my little eye, another ghost you’ve yet to turn into a chicken!” Cuphead, deciding the best route was that of an annoying child, proceeded to ensure they were off on the wrong foot from the get go.

“Cuphead, I don’t think I can turn this one into a chicken.”

“Not with _that_ attitude.”

“What an _odd_ way for you munchkins to introduce yourselves.” The ghost said, their voice pleasantly merry despite the previously overheard sentences. They had soot marks covering their pale blue hands and clear marks on their cheek where they’d rubbed at an itch on their face. Their hair was tied back, how long it was, the boys couldn’t tell, not with how it tapered off into an odd smoke. “Hi fella’s!” The man spoke again, waving his hand at them

“ _I_ spy with my _two_ eyes, two kids whose journey is going to end here!” Once more, the words were said in a pleasant way, but the words themselves were less friendly. Mugman still ended up giggling at the clear pun. He felt like he should be grossed out, considering the missing eyes were placed in gouges in the man’s palms, but he’d seen scarier things in Kahl’s place. Cuphead grimaced, whether it was because his joke was turned on him or something else, no one but him knew.

“Is there a reason you’re here to greet us?” Mugman asked once they’d gotten to the point where only the rail-cart was between them and the train.

“Of course! I’m Specter, this beautiful train’s Fireman. I’m just waiting for the fire-starter to finish up in the boiler. You see, this isn’t an ordinary train here. We _could_ theoretically have you two hop aboard and fight us, but, well, we ferry souls to hell where Rumor can’t. So we can’t have you ruining our schedule too much. I elected to be the one to tell you, there won’t be any punches thrown, sorry red kid.” Specter did not sound the least bit sorry. Cuphead shrugged.

“No problem dead guy.” He replied with equal casual ease. They heard muffled laughter from inside the car Specter stood next to. Specter rolled his head since he couldn’t roll his eyes, and reached through the car to smack someone.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be releasing the brakes, you know, your _job?”_ Specter yelled, sticking his head through the wall to continue scolding whoever was on the other side. A window away from him slip up until a blistered man poked his head out, his red flesh a clear mark of coming in heavy contact with something boiling hot.

“One of us _is_ doing our job. Not me though!” The man said, leaning out of the window. His clothing was dripping wet, and yet, no water ran off of him. The moment they left his skin, the droplets turned to steam. He turned his attention to the brothers.

“Oh hey! Bro, we got another pair! At least, I think, one of em is blue.” A face smushed against the glass, cheek squeaking along the surface as the other person checked them out. He pried open his own window, ignoring Specters’ displeased exclamation. His skin was more flushed than scalded, even so it was a bright red.

“Man, blue is what wet socks wear. You should try purple, it’s the far superior version of blue.” The second brother twisted until he was upside down, dangling out the window in what had to be an uncomfortable position.  

“Anyway, we’re the blaze brothers! We’re also the brakemen for this here hunk o’ steel. Glad to meet you, even if one of you is a wet sock.”

“Wait, blaze? You realize that blaze has exactly three of the same letters that blue does. This means you’re three-fifths wet sock.” Mugman tossed back, crossing his arms over his chest. The blaze brother dangling out of the car let out a hoot of laughter, kicking his single leg up so it hit the wall of the train. The other cheered. Specter cleared his throat, returning attention to himself.

“Don’t make me call T-bone on you.” He hissed at the scalded brothers, they stuck their tongues out at him and pulled themselves back in the cab. One poked their head back out.

“Conductor might not have a head, but he’s real hot, that’s with two T’s by the way. He’s gonna be the reason you lose this bet… Not to say he’s not regular hot though, we wouldn’t know, lost his he—” He gave the other siblings a dark look, but both just arched an eyebrow. The window shook for a moment, then slammed down on his neck, an invisible force closing it hard enough to take his head clean off. The boys just blinked. They watched Specter stomp over to the beheaded brakeman.

“Why do you antagonize the Conductor like that? I should just toss your head away.” He snarked, tossing the head from one hand to the other.

“Ooh! Ooh! Toss it to me Spec! I bet I can send it farther than you can!”

“Excuse you?! With your twig arms? I think not! Now get back to work! Go check the axles, if anything related to your job causes any inconvenience to Conductor I’ll put you in the grave a second time!”

“Um, quick question.” Mugman raised his hand, getting everyone’s attention. “If you work for Mr. Devil, why do you have a contract, or…contracts?”

“Let me tell ‘em!” The brother with only a left leg demanded, reappearing from inside the train.

“So,” He went forward, ignoring any answer Specter was about to give. “Short of it is this here train had a bit of bad luck a long while ago. Back when this baby was all fresh and new, it was the first to explore these here tracks. See, you only got eyes for part of em here, these things extend all the way to the mainland. Don’t ask how, we don’t want to tell you.”

“Magic.” Mugman intoned without pause.

“Spoilsport.”

“It’s because he’s blue.”

“But Spec is blue.”

“He’s turning purple.”

“Much better Spec!”

“Anyway, as it turns out, the tracks crossed the path of a certain spook no one in any mobile business wants to run into. That thing was none to happy with our being in its territory, but a horse versus a train, anyone can tell you the outcome. Conductor at the time didn’t fare well against new Conductor, lost him right before the train started acting funny.” The one leaning out the window paused, and his brother, finally reattached, picked up from there.

“Not so much funny, as cursed. Well, it was a bit funny watching the boiler area explode and take Spec out. Did that stop our gal? Not at all! This here train just kept plowing on right over bits of Specter! Under new management as it was, a little steam explosion only means a _better_ replacement is in order. See the old boiler couldn’t take the speeds Conductor wanted, so he fixed it. I admit, I panicked, but in my panic, I failed to see a tree branch just sticking out all rude like. Next thing I know I’m having to watch my body flail around and find my head! I’m terrible at out of body experiences though, fell right onto one of the steaming remains of the boiler, so on top of being headless, I got boiled. Terrible for your skin I tell you.”

“I must also confess, seeing my brother die strange spooked me something fierce, so I tried braking the caboose, as was my job. Unfortunately, that wasn’t what Conductor wanted.  So next thing I know I’m being dangled out over the front of the caboose, and he just drops me! Did you know it hurts when you lose a leg? Add insult to injury, I landed right in a snow bank! Cold deaths ain’t fast boys, I’ll tell you that right now. Conductor was still real nice, when the train circled back he picked me back up.”

“T-bone, our engineer, was only a bit unlucky, see, when the boiler went, one of the rods went right through the wall and he was stuck rotting away until he was right next to my brother…Hi T!” The men cheerfully waved to someone the porcelain brothers couldn’t see quite yet. Despite not seeing him, they certainly heard him.

“Get your sorry asses back on board, Conductor is ready to go, and he don’t fancy winning this bet for Boss by yapping those mantle pieces past due date.” A skeleton poked his head out, clearly the owner of the loud voice.

“Hey!” He shouted, beckoning the boys over. “See that cart there? That’s yours to use for this here race we’re going to have.” The moment the r word came out of his mouth, Mugman perked up, while Cuphead lost all color to his face.

“Race?” Mugman said, almost reverently.

“Yeah, but don’t look too pumped up, this here train is run by a Dullahan. Ain’t nobody ever wins a race against one of em. If you _do_ somehow win, you get the last contract, and bragging rights. You won’t get either, you won’t win. Even so, this is how we—” T-bone paused when a strange scratching sound came from the cart. The word “Nobody” slowly etched itself into the wood. As each letter became legible, Mugman’s smug grin grew wider and wider.

“Phantom Express, meet Nobody.” The eager way Mugman said it somehow sent a shiver down the train workers bodies. The train itself let out a shrill whistle, signaling the crew to hurry back on board.

“Before we wipe that grin off your face, all you have to do is get that tiny thing back at this spot before we do the same with our Phantom Express. Three train whistles exactly like the one you heard are the signal to start. I’d wish you luck, but that never helped anyone.” He returned back inside, Cuphead shot Specter, who was hopping up onto the outside platform on the caboose a desperate call for mercy.

“Please, I’m begging you, for my sake, change it to a punch out or something! I don’t care if I gotta punch zombies, just… please…” He begged, looking between Mugman and the train. Mugman had already hopped up on the little cart. Specter merely shrugged, but he did pause to take in Mugman’s surprisingly sweet smile. Turning, he went into the train, sparing the odd reaction not one thought more. He’d regret that later.

They all would.

\---0---0---0---

“Brother~, when you place bets, they tend to cause us to lose our souls.” The train sounded off its first whistle, piercing the air even all the way back where they were. “When you place bets, you tend to forget the odds.” The second whistle sounded, and Mugman pulled Cuphead up onto the little cart, ignoring the curious look from one of the blaze brothers.

“When _I_ place bets, _I don’t forget the odds.”_ The second the third whistle blasted out into the air, runes and circles flashed into existence. Mugman gave but a single press of the dual lever in the middle of the cart, and next thing anyone knew, the cart was _moving_. From the windows, the souls and workers watched as the cart flashed by. They could hear one of the boys shrieking to high heaven, a red splash of color clinging to the platform in pure terror. The blue brother could be seen, draped on the back of the cart, giving everyone in the train a coy grin. The demented gleam in his eye showed them, he wasn’t even done.

Indeed he wasn’t.

With a flick of his wrist, a flash of his eyes, the cart lurched forward, then shot off like a bullet. A minute later, it reappeared, following the track still, this time, the red one was clinging to a sail that had somehow replaced the lever system. The wind shrieked and howled louder than anything those on board the train had ever heard, and once again, the cart proved to be faster than the train by a long shot. The red brother had gone from screaming to proclaiming his hatred for his speed demon of a brother. The blue one merely cackled, lighting up the runes once more and sending the cart vanishing into the distance.

By this point, everyone was pressed to the windows, waiting for it to reappear. Souls eagerly pulled up the windows to get a better view. Reappear it did. Nothing had changed from that point, except one thing. A new circle with a rune anyone in the mage business recognized. Even so, it was too late. As the cart passed by the train, a powerful jet of water hit the train so hard it washed the graveyard grime clean off the side of it. Those in the windows were drenched in seconds.

“Better? I told you I’d make it fun!” Mugman shouted over the noise. Cuphead just continued screaming in response. If he’d had an actual throat, it would be raw by now. “There’s just no pleasing you.” Mugman sighed, dramatically dropping his head onto his palm. He caught sight of one of the brothers, and he gave him a grin so sharp, the brother actively flinched back, even after the jet of water nearly ripped through his skin.

“Now who’s the wet sock.” Mugman let out another demented cackle, and the cart picked up speed again. The blaze brother remained frozen, dripping and releasing bursts of steam, then, he laughed boisterously. The train, even as it picked up speed, was left in the dust yet again by the tinyt car with a ships sail on it’s center. From inside the train, T-bone spat out a fish, evidence that the water was from the ocean.

“We should’a said no magic.” He grumbled.

“Where did he get the sail?” Specter asked weakly.

\---0---0---0---

“You know? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a Dullahan.” Mugman mused, leaning back next to his traumatized sibling. “But didn’t one of them mention a horse? Racing and horses… hmm, I think we’d have to get a better look at the front of the train, don’t you think brother?”

Pathetic whimpering was his only response. He shrugged, choosing not to remark on his brother’s current fetal position on the mast. He sure hoped Elder wasn’t mad about him taking one of the islands trees and the houses tablecloth. However, he could get far more speed if he had a constant stream of wind on top of the circles and runes making the cart faster by its own lever power. If there was one thing Mugman wanted right now, it was ungodly amounts of speed. How _else_ was he going to see the front if he didn’t catch back up? Passing the finish line _again,_ he kicked up the speed.

\---0---0---0---

Elder stared at his tableclothless table, cool glass of lemonade slowly drenching his hand the longer he held it.

“Son of a bitch, he learned how to teleport. That was the good tablecloth too!”

\---0---0---0---

“Hey!” Mugman called out to the blaze brother sitting in the caboose. The dead man perked up, leaning over the side of the train to get a better look at the clear winner of the race.

“What’s a Dullahan?” Mugman asked, cutting off the wind so he could be heard better. The brother scratched his hair, maintaining a cheerful grin.

“You wanna see Conductor? Hang on! Let me call up T, he’ll get you on no problem!”

“I’m certain that isn’t what I said, why would I want to go on the worlds slowest train?”

“We’re going seventy-five miles per hour.”

“Oh those are pathetic numbers.”

“Ha, boy you’re a real treat! Hang on, make another circuit if you want.”

“Again, I—" Mugman broke off mid-sentence as an impressively large hand shot out from the caboose’s door and plucked him right off the cart. Cuphead, clutching the sail for his life, had no time to react. For a brief moment, the cart lost all magical influence and began slowing down. In that moment, Cuphead gave a sob of relief, that is, until he fully realized exactly _why_ the cart was slowing down. Still, he was far too shaken to do much else. Luckily for him, another hand appeared and ripped him off his little perch of safety, plopping him down next to Mugman and T-bone.

“Hilariously enough, you won, so, since this thing won’t be slowing down all that quickly, here you—”

“If you needed it to slow down, all you had to do was ask! Gosh, I was passing you because I thought you hadn’t seen me win.” From above, every brake activated, sending the speeding train into a harsh stop. The hulking mass of steel, magicked or no, didn’t stop smoothly. Everyone was thrown forward, the porcelain brothers landed on T-bone, crashing to the floor in a heap.

There were a good few minutes of nothing but groaning and a muffled “I _swear_ give him a freaking vehicle and he’s possessed by an evil greater than anything the ruler of Hell could contain.” From Cuphead. Mugman let out a breathy giggle, unabashedly proud of his victory.

“Holy shit.” The blaze brother somehow still upright whispered out, awe filling his voice.

\---0---0---0---

“Do you think we can go again?” Mugman asked the moment the Conductor made his appearance. The Conductor paused mid-stride.

“Oh sweet mercy you beat a headless horseman.” Cuphead groaned, burying his head in his hands. His favorite myth, utterly wrecked by his baby brother.

\---0---0---0---

Within the casino, King Dice waited for the results of a die roll. Out of nowhere, he burst into uncontrollable laughter, dropping to the floor from how hard he shook. The pit bosses all shot each other confused looks. From above, Devil cracked open his balcony door to peek out at his cackling manager. King Dice, usually prim and sleek, had to physically hold his head in place lest it fall off his shaking shoulders. He’d continue bursting into fits of laughter for the next ten minutes. Devil was only confused until he checked the time, and realized the two kids would have reached the end by now.

“Ohhhhhh…. Oh, damn, I should have bet on that win.” He muttered, shuffling back into his room to prepare. King Dice’s laughter continued to keep a warm grin on Devil’s face, though no one but the imps saw it.

\---0---0---0---

“That’s right! I told you he was hot with two T’s!”

“I get it! Head of the train! That’s snazzy!” Mugman, still high on residual excitement, ignored his brother. The blaze brother closest to him nodded with gusto, nearly taking his own head off again.

“Conductor doesn’t agree, but I think it’s just because his head ain’t here to fully appreciate the name.”

“You idiot, his head still knows what’s going on.”

“Wait,” Cuphead stood, interrupting the retort the blaze brother was going to snark back. “I thought the headless horseman died if you took his head.”

“Nope, only if it’s destroyed, and his head found a new place to hole itself in. You should have run into it actually. It’s in the casino.”

“What does it do again?”

“No idea, I don’t pay attention to that part of the job. But I demand that if you two lose to big Boss in there, you come work with us.” The blaze brother who was eternally dripping pointed at Mugman.

“I’d love to, but we don’t plan on losing, it would be terrible if all our hard work went for nothing.” Mugman let Cuphead take the offered contract, the last on their list. The body, or Hott, didn’t seem too upset to hand it over. Then again, it also didn’t think the contract would remain in their hands long, so it didn’t see a loss.

“Actually, Conductor? Didn’t you bet that you’d win this? Something like you wouldn’t even need full speed?” Specter spoke up, reminding T-bone he was right next to the engineer. Hott’s shoulders finally began to shake, despite the lack of head, it was clear the shaking was from laughter. Mugman, clearly only hearing the last bit, got that shine in his eyes again.

“No. No, no…. no.” Cuphead, fearing for his life, picked Mugman up, slung his brother over one shoulder, and made for the end of the train so he could get to the casino. The casino, that wasn’t even in view anymore. They had stopped halfway through the track. Cuphead felt his brother’s building glee, and mourned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, let's consider.... The train is purple, it's got a broad, smug-ass grin, it's got a set of sub bosses you have to beat before you can fight Hott, its eyes light up an unearthly color and it's got a thing you've got to parry if you want to get at it's main body.... that's right folks! The Conductors head is actually.... Wheezy! Boy howdy you all probably had that lined up from the beginning right? Haaa.... 
> 
>  
> 
> It's not Wheezy, but damn that would be a twist if he was. Oh snap, this is the last chapter before the casino! Well, it's been fun, here's hoping I don't muck up the ending bit.


	18. The Roll.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The casino wasn't built to withstand the level of crazy the boys bring. Shame. Damn shame.

By the time they got back to the entrance of the casino, Cuphead was swearing up and down he’d never let his brother near anything with wheels or a sail ever again. At least, he added, not when he was on the vehicle. Mugman had just laughed sweetly, the laugh didn’t match the sadistic gleam in his eyes, Cuphead was not fooled. He and his brother made their way back to the doors that had started their journey.

Examining the casino once more, they noticed a pile of roller coaster cars stained with a variety of colors in the corner, hidden behind a tacky rook pillar. Mugman sent a withering glare at Cuphead, to which Cuphead responded with a weak smile. The door opened once more, like last time, only this time King Dice was the one that opened it. The man looked just the slightest bit more tired than the last time they’d seen him. Even still, with his pristine violet suit, his perfectly in place hair, and the almost mocking smile he had on his face, he cut an imposing figure. They expected no less from the Devil’s right-hand man.

He seemed to be examining them in return, as if looking to see any injuries they might have gained. Really, he was just wondering how he was going to approach this upcoming battle. Or he _was_ , until he saw just what the boys had been looking at before he’d opened the door.

“Are those… One moment please.” He gave the pile of cars one last glance, and closed the doors. From behind the door, shouting of the scolding variety could be heard. It was followed by the Devil responding to whatever was said. Then, the door opened, and Devil strode out, grumbling while King Dice angrily tapped his shoe rapidly on the doorstep. Devil shuffled over to the pile, glared at the brothers, muttered “narks” under his breath, and sent the pile away in a flash of more hellfire.

“I fixed the damn casino, I did what was asked, stupid perfectionist...” Devil grumbled as he shuffled back, the loud, irritated sound of King Dice clearing his throat caught Devil’s attention. Devil returned to the casino, giving King Dice puppy eyes the whole way back. The unhappy glare was more than enough to tell him it hadn’t worked. Cuphead could sympathize, he did the same thing when Mugman was mad, with similar results most of the time. Once he vanished from sight, to sulk or prepare, neither brother knew, King Dice cleared his throat once more and faced them.

“Long story short, if you want to see the boss, you’ve got to get past me first.” King Dice waved them in, gesturing to the same table they’d lost the bet on. It was almost nostalgic in a masochistic sense.

“Are you sure?” Cuphead asked.

“You made me lose a bet, yes, I’m sure.”

“What bet?” Mugman looked like he was replaying every interaction the trio had had, and couldn’t, for the life of him, remember anything about a bet.

“Do you have to wear a maid outfit or something now? No, you have to walk on your hands for a day! Can you even do that? I can.”

“Cuphead you’ve read too many comics.”

“No, I don’t have to wear a maid outfit, but I _do_ have to give up my former title since you won the race.”

“Wait…how does us beating the Express affect…” Cuphead’s voice faded off, jaw slowly falling open. King Dice arched an eyebrow while rolling a pair of bright pink die in his hand. Mugman just let out a quiet “oh” that he muffled behind one hand. Then, Mugman snickered.

“You can keep that title, it wasn’t much of a race.”

“Just for that you get to roll first. I hope you get a terrible number.” King Dice tossed one of the dies to the mage. Mugman caught it, examining the piece of magic. His own poked at the unfamiliar magic, reaching for any information the die was willing to give up on its purpose beyond being rolled. The pink die merely allowed the prodding, it _did_ squirm when the devouring part of Mugman’s magic reached for it.

“You’re the head from that Dullahan? How are you wandering around?” King Dice glanced at Cuphead.

“If you manage to survive, I’ll tell you. They aren’t rigged, I don’t care for that sort of thing very much. If people are going to lose their souls, I find it far sweeter to watch them fail due to their own poor luck or poor decisions.” He gestured for Mugman to roll, and figuring he had nothing to lose, Mugman did. The moment it settled, King Dice clapped his hands together, and Mugman fell into a portal that opened up under his feet.

Cuphead stared at the spot where his brother had been, looked at King Dice, looked back at the spot, and broke the table in half. King Dice was suddenly very glad he didn’t have a body. Cuphead began stomping towards him, gaze stormy. The hollow thud noise that came from him hitting the barrier was almost enough to make King Dice laugh out loud.

“Your brother’s simply gone to face the result of his roll. Stay put and wait to see if he returns in one piece would you.”

“If he doesn’t, you can bet I’m launching this stupid place into the sun.”

“I don’t make bets on my casino, that’s the boss’s habit.”

\---0---0---0---

Mugman stared at the new area he was in. It looked like a bar based on the wall of liquor to his left. To his right, bar patrons gazed at him. Behind the counter as he was, it almost felt like he was supposed to be taking orders. Unsure of what to do, he watched the bar patrons back, wondering if there was any relation to the red man with horns sitting at the table and Devil. He then wondered if Devil owned a monocle.

“Looks like… We’re up first!” A voice directly behind him made him stumble forward away from the owner of said voice. It was a trio of workers. A short but heavy man, hiccupping profusely, with an impressive mustache and an even more impressively grumpy expression. A tall woman swaying behind him, holding a martini glass that had a thick lipstick mark on the rim. A taller still man missing a tooth and staring hard to the direct left of Mugman. All of them had clear skin, as if made of glass. He wouldn’t be surprised if they truly were made of glass either.

“Excuse me? Could you tell me where I am and what I’m supposed to be doing?” He asked, hoping they’d answer him. The short man tipped his head back and chugged down an entire bottle of whiskey in one go. His gaze focused, sort of, on Mugman, and he hiccupped loudly.

“This is a fight boy.” The woman said, swirling the drink in her glass. Some sloshed out onto the floor, and for a brief moment, she looked like she was going to cry. He scratched his nose, wondering just how he was going to fight a trio while behind a bar. Then he noticed one of the patrons casually set their shot on fire. He looked back at the trio, who stared back at him.

He grinned.

\---0---0---0—

“Is there any particular reason why I’m looking at three of my workers doing corkscrews above the bar?”

“Just be glad he’s not doing anything else…Oh nevermind.”

“Thank Hell, here I was, worried I’d never get to see my workers flop about the air while on fire.”

“You started it, he’s following through. It’s what he does. Ohhhh I hope your patrons brought umbrellas.”

“Whoever gave that kid magic was wrong.”

Cuphead just laughed. Pieces of what looked like ice flew through the air from the direction of the bar, plinking off the bar workers.

\---0---0---0---

When Mugman was brought back he was holding a glass of ice in one hand. King Dice gave him a blatantly confused stare.

“I was cooling them down.” He explained, lightly tossing an ice chip at Cuphead. Cuphead, still laughing, caught it and popped it in his mouth. He continued snickering even when King Dice tossed the other die his way.

“Please tell me you didn’t destroy more than the carpet.”

“I poured a few bottles of alcohol over them, but I couldn’t reach anything high up, so if it makes you feel any better I don’t think I used the expensive stuff. You did lose all of your cherry whiskey though.”

“I think that’s the stuff Elder drinks most often.” Cuphead mused.

Cuphead tossed the die into the air, caught it in his hand, then rolled it on the newly repaired table. King Dice wondered how much it would take to get Devil to clean up the casino once those two were either dead, or gone. The moment Cuphead’s roll landed, he was teleported off to the tables across the casino. Mugman politely offered King Dice an ice chip, King Dice refused.

\---0---0---0---

Cuphead looked at the cowboy across from him in mute confusion. The cowboy grinned back, playing with poker chips in one hand and fingering a gun in the other. He wondered if he’d suddenly been transported back in time, because he’d never seen someone wear that outfit unless in the movies. Then again, it didn’t seem like the casino really had a dress code. Cuphead wondered why someone like King Dice would run a casino with no uniform in place. Then he tried picturing the lanky man in a purple suit, and frantically bit back the laughter trying to come out.

“Is that thing real?” Cuphead finally asked, pointing at the shiny weapon.

“It is, but I’m not planning on using it on you. This baby is reserved for Manager.” The man replied. “Name’s Chips Bettigan! Pleasure to meet you, future doorstop!” He tipped his hat towards Cuphead.

“Name’s Cuphead! Equally glad to meet the maker of this lovely establishments next sunroof!” Cuphead tipped his own hat to Chips, and thus, the battle began.

Cuphead didn’t have magic to toss Chips around like a drunk ballerina giving the finger to gravity. What he _did_ have, was great reflexes and strength. Chips threw poker chips at him so hard, the chips embedded themselves in the carpet. A stray shot managed to shear a chunk of Cuphead’s arm off. In return, he threw whatever he could at Chips. The first table just about scared the tan off Chips skin. The second knocked his hat off.

“Watch it! Are you _trying_ to murder me?” Chips teased, giving Cuphead a playful glare.

“Well no, but if you want me to step it up just ask.”

“Of course! All or nothing on my tables boy!”

“Okay!”

Chips would come to regret egging Cuphead on. The dark glare from King Dice after all was said and done spoke more than any words ever could of what was to come. There was no way to take it back though, so he watched a chair splinter into the wall, and gave King Dice a weak smile. Frankly, the two boots planting themselves in his face so hard his body lifted off the ground and crashed back down on a potted plant near the front entrance were a welcome break. When he woke, he’d be forced to clean up his section. For now, he dreamed of winning bets, and King Dice patting his head, giving him praise.

\---0---0---0---

“I want you both to know I can’t get out of this either.” King Dice said the moment Cuphead returned to his former spot next to Mugman. Mugman just examined the cracked arm, accidentally dropping his die in the process.

“Oh dang it!” He stomped his foot, and the portal appeared under his feet, taking him away once more.

Cuphead snorted.

\---0---0---0---

Mugman appeared in what had to be the smoking section, the air was foggy with foul smelling cigar and cigarette smoke. He coughed, wishing he hadn’t had his mouth open when he’d been sent away. Through the haze he spotted the same man he’d seen the first time the boys had gone to the casino.

“I recognize you! Wait is this all you really do?” He said, though he very carefully didn’t intake any air. His magic called up a wind rune, and the smoke began to clear. The man stood, cigar burning away between his lips. He rolled his shoulders and grinned a yellow-toothed grin.

“We’re pit bosses boy, we put our eyes where Manager can’t. I was hoping I’d get the red one, but you’ll do. You can tell the lovely ladies below that Mr. Wheezy sent you.” He said, and shot forward with speed neither brother had though he had. Mugman barely moved away in time, but he was too slow to dodge the second blow Wheezy threw mid-turn. His fist broke through Mugman’s midsection before any barrier could be placed. Mugman crashed back into the seats, porcelain raining down from his ripped shirt.

Wheezy shook the pieces of porcelain out of his hand, giving King Dice a confident smile. King Dice did not return the look.

\---0---0---0---

The look on Cuphead’s face cause genuine fear to roll down King Dice’s non-existent spine. Fear not only for his own safety, but for Wheezy’s. The man was a pain, but Cuphead looked like he was plotting the smoke demon’s murder. Wheezy wasn’t like King Dice, he _had_ a body, and King Dice didn’t doubt if Cuphead got his hands on Wheezy, every single bone Wheezy had would be powdered by the time he was done.

The malevolent, intensively focused stare Cuphead was giving Wheezy and the table once more splintering under Cuphead’s extreme grip promised death to the next person who faced the brother in red. King Dice, not for the first time, was glad all of his workers were the sort Devil could revive.

\---0---0---0—

Mugman’s magic _boiled_. Through the remaining haze, Wheezy swore, for a split second, the mage’s shadow twisted into that of a tall creature with antlers. Where the eye sockets would be, a single light stared him down, promises of agony translated all in the half second it was there. Mugman winced, watching soul liquid drip from cracked lines, a few bent gears following suit. He glanced up in time to see Wheezy charge at him again.

Throwing himself over the chair back, he used it as a barrier while his magic _carefully_ selected what it was going to do to Wheezy. A barrier flashed into place just before the chair Wheezy threw could hit the kneeling teen. While a small portion of his magic aimed to repair the worst of the damage, the rest went into turning offensive. Five wind runes appeared, circling Wheezy. The moment they kicked on, he knew no amount of hair gel was going to help. Of course, the weak breeze he got instead was unexpected, and he gave the mage on the floor a confused glance. Mugman deliberately looked up, eyes alight with sadistic mischief. For the briefest of instances, Wheezy thought about Mugman apprenticing under his Manager. Both had that look _down pat._

Above them, a lone ashtray hovered over Wheezy. He snorted, returning his focus to Mugman. Batting away a wind rune, he took a single step. He’d been wrong before; the kid was probably too nice to survive King Dice’s teaching.

They’d have to dig Wheezy out from the pile of resized ash trays that had been dumped on him one by one. The massive eight foot in diameter ash trays came down on Wheezy hard enough to crack the tiles around him. Had he been fully human, he’d have surely died on the spot. As it was, he’d be nursing burningly painful wounds for weeks.

\---0---0---0---

Mugman returned and was immediately beset upon by Cuphead. Cuphead yanked Mugman’s shirt up and examined the repairing area of impact. The gears had been fixed, the lines repaired, but the outer shell was still being carefully patched up. In the smoking section, another ash tray smashed down on the pile vindictively. Mugman waved his brother away, his magic would take care of it, even if it took a smidge longer due to the runes that had to be re-added to the porcelain.

Cuphead wordlessly flicked the die into the air. It embedded itself into the ceiling. A bright flash of green magic repairing his arm only made him glare. He knew it wasn’t Mugman’s magic, and though he wanted to question it, he was far too livid and out for blood. He’d find out later, after he’d dealt with whoever wanted to fight near the billiard tables.

Two short, square men with severe expressions charged at him from either side. He planted his stance, waited for the right moment, and threw a punch. The men shattered into countless pieces. Shards of their bodies embedded into the tables and floor on impact. He hadn’t even used all of his strength either, nor did he feel anything as the remains of those workers dusted the floor.

Hearing a noise behind him, he dove under the nearest billiard table in time to avoid being hit by a massive fist. The man who’d thrown it looked like he could challenge Elder to an arm-wrestling contest, and make Elder work for victory. Still, Cuphead thought as he donkey-kicked the table he was under into the man’s chest, Elder would win.

The table forced the man to stumble back enough for Cuphead to get back up. He wasn’t done returning the favor yet. The odd, almost tar like man had a freakishly wide grin and piercing yellow eyes. He shuddered a bit, as if his body was made of liquid and he was settling it so he could move. Striding forward, the hulking man swung at Cuphead. Cuphead caught the fist in one hand, wrapped his arm around the wrist, slammed his feet into the man’s chest, and yanked back in a harsh, tearing motion. The bones under the thick, rubbery flesh cracked like toothpicks. The man lost his smile.

Cuphead spun and threw the dismembered hand at King Dice. Though it splat on the barrier, it was the second step to his retaliation. No one hurt his baby brother, not when he had been a tiny, ill human, not now. The man almost managed to grab ahold of him, even as tar poured from his torn limb. Cuphead moved too fast, he had plenty of practice dodging after all. He moved in, ready to deliver solid hits, and do Grannie Chalice proud.

Mangosteen would have to be pieced back together. He’d cower away from anything red for a while, but no one would blame him.

\---0---0---0---

When Cuphead returned, covered in tar and glaring at King Dice, King Dice simply stared at the remains of the billiard section. The manager genuinely felt bad for Mangosteen. He figured he’d be doing a lot of healing before the end of this fight was over. He wondered if he’d have enough magic to patch up everyone.

Looking at the two dolls’, he didn’t think he would. He dearly hoped whoever came next got lucky. He wasn’t sure the odd shadow lurking behind the blue child would allow its’ owner to be hit again. At least not without wiping whoever dealt the blow off the face of existence. Mugman rolled the die, abdomen sufficiently fixed up to a smooth finish. Though the runes were still being etched back in place, he was ready for the next battle.

\---0---0---0---

He was up in the rafters, which were painted like dominoes. There were two siblings swinging idly on a pair of trapezes. Even more odd, was when the beam he was on began moving, and growing spikes. He hopped over the first set and looked at the duo.

“I’m not sure what to be impressed by if I’m honest.”

“That’s rude, coming from a mantlepiece stuck on the ground.” By this point, Mugman was entirely sick of being called a mantlepiece or anything of the sort. They hadn’t even given him their names. To those that knew Mugman, what he chose to do next wouldn’t surprise them. Though he didn’t have a temper like Cuphead, he had limits, and his methods of exacting revenge were _far_ worse.

He gave them a polite smile, hopped over the next set of spikes and used a floating spell to stay up off the rafters. In return, they lobbed a glowing ball at his face. His magic devoured it. The smile only grew wider.

“You know, Auntie Bon Bon always said, when you’re a performer, you have to reach for the stars. I can’t put you on a star, but I sure can take you sky high.”

The two stared at him, pure confusion on their smooth faces.

Then the casino was on the roof of the cave, and the screaming started.

\---0---0---0---

King Dice stared up at his beloved casino, where it now sat far, far above their heads. The floor of the casino was still on the floor of the cave, as well as some of the tables. But everything else was moved up. Even his boss was up there, if the tiny black figure with their ass dangling out of a window was who he thought it was. Imps could be seen dotting the sunroof, mushed against the glass along with various patrons. He stared at the mage who picked at a hole in his shirt. Beside him, his brother was rolling around on the floor, boisterous laughter pouring from his frame.

“Put it back.” He stated, but there was no force behind the demand. By the end of this he was going to be a broken man. Outside, barely heard, a trains whistle went off, spelling out ‘haha’ in Morse code.

“They were rude. No.” Mugman replied, watching the hole vanish.

“Please? It’s one of the few things that bring me joy. And the only reason I’d be able to see my Boss dangling out of that particular window is if he was slacking on doing his work. I can’t scold him from here.”

“Oh you have to do that sort of thing too? Alright. But only because I know how annoying that can be.” Mugman shot a glance at Cuphead. In return, Cuphead grinned unabashedly at his younger brother. The casino was indeed returned in perfect place once more. From above, in the rafters, the twins could be heard screaming. Devil peeked his head out of his office, horns seen long before his red eyes were. King Dice glared at him, Devil retreated.

King Dice rested his head in his hand, weakly waving for Cuphead to take his turn. He dearly hoped at least one of them rolled high enough to hit the finish tile. At least one of them, so his casino would have a better chance of survival. Cuphead, in a far better mood now, tossed the die into the air and all watched it roll on the table. King Dice, knowing exactly who was next, was simply thankful the magician wouldn’t be facing off against the mage.

\---0---0---0---

“Welcome to Hopus Pocus’ show kiddo!” A man with fluffy white hair and crazed eyes all but launched out of a hat at Cuphead. Cuphead flailed, hand smacking into the man’s head, and knocking it clear across the casino.

There was much screaming from the unfortunate table that acted as the head’s landing zone. Hopus’ hands flopped around, patting the air where his head had been. Then, reaching into his neck stump, with blood splattering everywhere, the hand pulled up, hauling a new head out by the hair. A nearby patron followed the way of the tipsy troupe, and threw up into their glass.

“Great arm you got there kid!” Hopus cheered, as if he hadn’t just lost his head. Cuphead just stared at the splotches of blood on his shirt. When one could remove their own head, such scenes lost their power. Hopus, realizing this, pouted.

“I bet that blue brother of yours would be a better assistant. Should we bring him along?”

“I really wouldn’t if I were you. I think Mugs is just letting that King guy teleport him places. Using magic on my brother doesn’t usually end… well.” Hopus, having chosen to ignore Cuphead and reach into a tiny hat, pulled out a mangled stump of an arm.

“Oh bother.” Hopus said.

\---0---0---0---

“Was that necessary?” King Dice asked, tapping his fingers on the table’s edge. Mugman put his hands on his hips.

“Of course, I don’t like strangers grabbing me. Besides, I never did like those kinds of magic shows.”

“Fair point I suppose. So, as I was saying, you can’t just bat your lashes and expect the cops to coo at you and leave, it’s all about adding finesse…”

\---0---0---0---

“Should I just punch you and get it over with?”

“No! I’ve still got a trick up my sleeve~! Now, pick a skull, any skull!” Hopus gestured widely to a sudden array of skulls surrounding Cuphead. Cuphead turned his head to look around, and that was what saved the right side of his face from getting smashed apart by a high-speed rabbit skull like the left side of his face.

\---0---0---0---

“You’re losing that worker.” Mugman said as if discussing the weather.

King Dice wondered if the fact that his barrier was still up was simply Mugman’s way of letting him know Mugman was the patient sort when it came to revenge. Or if Mugman decided King Dice had nothing to do with his brother taking a nasty hit. Whatever the reason, he no longer felt any level of safe behind the thing.

\---0---0---0---

Cuphead did indeed simply punch Hopus. He did it after dodging the next few skulls. Hopus was thrown across the stage they were on clear into the crowd. When he didn’t get back up, Cuphead was brought back to King Dice.

The second he landed out of the portal, Mugman was pressing his hands to Cuphead’s broken face and fixing it in a flash. From over by the stage, something, King Dice didn’t know what, reached out of the shadows of the stage, grabbed Hopus, and dragged the screaming magician into some unknown space. King Dice didn’t think he’d be seeing Hopus any time soon.

Mugman, once Cuphead was fixed up properly, rolled the die, eagerly watching it land. He’d gotten his revenge, no need to linger.

\---0---0---0---

Mugman was on a horse racetrack.

Mugman was on a horse racetrack, on a hell-horse.

Mugman was on a horse racetrack, on a hell-horse, staring at another rider, wearing a horse skull, and grinning at him.

Mugman was about to race someone, on a horse racetrack, on a hell-horse.

Mugman grinned.

The hell-horse screeched.

\---0---0---0---

“I can’t see him, where did my brother go?” Cuphead asked, looking around from his spot. King Dice gestured to the balcony overlooking the horse track.

“He went to the track, Phear is probably going to make him…win… a race…” Both turned to face the balcony right as a pillar of white hellfire blazed up from below. Spectators screamed, horses whinnied.

A lone person shouted “Neigh!” at the top of their lungs in joy.

Cuphead put his hands on the green fabric covering the table, and gave King Dice a judgmental frown. The pillar shot out of view and back again, the sounds of a hell-horse panicking and yet having a grand old time mixing with very familiar cackling from a mage with a need for speed.

\---0---0---0---

Mugman returned with the hell-horse in tow, face flushed a sky blue.

“That was great Mr. King Dice! Can I name this one?” He gestured to the rather confused looking hell-horse. It flicked its hellfire tail, and set a plant behind them on fire. King Dice nodded weakly.

“His name is Sir Smuckles the third.” Sir Smuckles the third whinnied and nibbled on Mugman’s shirt collar. In the ensuing giggle fit from Cuphead, King Dice simply numbly gestured for Cuphead to roll. A quick toss, and Cuphead was vanishing, only one away from the finish space. Mugman sent his new horse away, waving good-bye to it and promising to bring it plenty of treats the next time he saw it.

\---0---0---0---

The woman standing near the roulette tables gazed down at him, stance tall and prim. Cuphead had to tilt his head to see her regal features, she gazed back with a plain stare. Then, she lifted up to her tip-toes, and the moment she pulled into a spin, Cuphead flipped. He shot up the nearest table, much to the woman’s confusion, and began leaping up until he spot Mugman behind the slot machines.

“Mugs! Mugs! It’s a ballerina! A real ballerina!” He called out.

\---0---0---0---

“Oh! Oh, can I go over there Mr. King Dice?” Mugman begged, giving King Dice his best puppy eyes. King Dice was ashamed to admit the look sort of worked. He blamed his tired state. Even so, he did simply wave Mugman to Pirouletta’s direction.

“Please, all I ask is you don’t kill her. She’s one of the best workers I have here.” Mugman nodded, nearly blinded King Dice with a dazzling smile, and ran off to join his brother. King Dice tried picturing Mugman facing off against Mr. Chimes, and his face lost what little color remained. Over by Pirouletta’s area, he heard the boys give out exclamations of awe. Evidently, she decided putting on a small show to willing viewers was the best option for both her and King Dice’s health.

\---0---0---0---

When the boys returned five minutes later, they both looked at King Dice as if waiting for him to tell them to roll.

“I only have one other pit boss.” He told them, voice tinged with a slight delirium born from watching co-workers either get dragged off or torn apart. He was about to tell them to just forget it and let him move their dials to the finish space. Mr. Chimes, deciding he wanted in on the action, derailed King Dice’s attempt. He descended, clapping his cymbals together loudly behind the boys. Honestly King Dice didn’t know why he did it, he’d seen what had happened to Hopus. But this time, it looked like Cuphead and Mugman had seen the movement out of the corners of their eyes.

He figured this, because instead of flailing, some force cut through the wires holding Chimes up, then Cuphead grabbed the short man and flung him at Devil’s office window.

“What the fuck?!” Devil shouted from inside, apparently not expecting one of his workers to break his window and, based on the cracking sound, his desk.

The dials turned to the finish spaces of their own accord, and then he remembered why that was a bad thing.

The boys could see the barrier ripple and vanish, the cards within King Dice’s sleeves shuddered.

“You owe us an explanation, and then I’m punching you.”

“Aw, but he gives good advice!”

“Advice about what?”

“…Business.”

“So that stuff you wanted to know! Shut your mouths and listen.” King Dice smoothed a hand through his hair, trying to regain his cool. “Short of it is a company built tracks where I used to roam and I challenged something I shouldn’t have to a race. Really, I blame it on that conductor, atrocious habits he had. I managed to win, but you can’t exactly beat a train when it’s going full speed. My horse died on impact… or, died _again_ , and my head was flung off to one side.” He shifted to one side, the boys leaned in, eager to hear more.

“Luckily for me, I managed to land close enough that I could get energy from Hell, and souls that passed by to make their way to the casino back when it first opened. After getting enough, and being separate from my body, even if it managed to turn the train into a soul delivery vehicle, I gained a piece of my own soul, and with it, the strength to magic up my own body. Granted, I need clothing of some sort to do so, but it works, and after Boss found me near the tracks, I wound up here.”

“That really is the short of it.” Cuphead grumbled, clearly hoping to have heard about all the races and whatnot King Dice did back when he was still body-bound.

“My body continues to house most of my soul, and it gives me souls to feed my magic enough to where maintaining a relatively physical form is easy, on top of my original magic being amplified.”

“Did you win a lot of cool races before becoming a smear on a train?” Cuphead spoke up, leaning until his feet could no longer touch the ground. King Dices grin turned malicious, and it was all the answer he gave. Cuphead, stars in his eyes, leaned back, plopping back down on the ground.

“Well, guess it’s time for me to punch you then.” With that, Cuphead tore the table up off the ground, flung it through the ceiling, and threw himself at King Dice. King Dice assumed Cuphead would go for his chest, since the boy had a habit of aiming for the center of mass. As such, that’s what he moved to defend. Instead, Cuphead’s fist arced up and King Dice felt a tooth crack before he lost consciousness.

Mugman caught the manager with his magic, letting the man drop relatively gently onto the table behind their own. Both brothers figured there was nothing else to do but head up to Devil’s office. So, leaving King Dice to be found by one of the less broken workers, the boys headed upstairs ready for whatever Devil was going to try.

After the door closed, Pip and Dot, who’d been stuck on the ceiling, toppled over the rafters and crashed down onto the pile that was the Tipsy Troupe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It begins. The descent into hell.   
> King Dice is a Dullahan, and his workers are a mashup of human and inhuman, but all can be revived by Devil, since, he owns their souls and all that jazz. He does not have a physical body anymore. If you were to put his head on his original bodies shoulders it would simply fall back off. They're still attached via soul though, so King Dice would know if you destroyed his body.  
> Have any of you seen Clue? The one that had Tim Curry?


	19. It Could End like This...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It could!

The brother stood before a set of doors they’d never seen before. Part of them was nervous. The only reason Elder had managed to get their souls, was because he’d been them combined. Even so, there was no turning back. They weren’t going to just give up after having won against every single person they threw down with. So, with nothing else to do, Cuphead kicked down the doors and the brothers strode in.

If they had been human, the heat would have been near searing. Devil sat on his throne, bits of glass still scattered about the room from the impromptu casino move. He gave them a grin that, on any other person, would have been welcoming. On Devil though, it just made them uncomfortable.

“Well, well, well… Look how far you’ve come!”

“Don’t say things like that. It sounds like you’re trying to be like Elder, and that’s weird.” Cuphead interrupted, holding up one hand to hush Devil. Devil snorted.

“Dammit, you didn’t die horribly so I’d get your souls anyway. Oh gee, I sure do wish you’d been squashed by any number of them. But uh, side note, which one of you munchkins sent roller coasters into my damn casino?” Devil decided to humor the boys. Mugman immediately pointed at Cuphead, who raised his hand proudly.

“One of them hit me you little shit. You have any idea how hard one of those things hit?”

“Not hard enough if you’re walking around.” Cuphead replied cheekily, rocking back on his heels, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“You little bastards are lucky I like your spirit. I’m willing to overlook breaking up my casino, if you do two teensy things.”

“If one of them is to apologize for breaking one of King Dice’s teeth, I’m not going to.”

“Pffft, like I’d make anyone apologize for punching my good for nothing lackey.”

“See, normally I’d think you just insulted someone who seems dedicated to working for you, but if that was an insult, I’d think you were the lamest Devil anywhere.”  Mugman said. Though he didn’t take Cuphead’s confident pose, he did look far too casual to be standing in front of the Lord of Hell.

“Ha, got it in one kid. Anyway, first thing, hand over those contracts, and second, work for me.” The brothers slowly turned their heads so they could face one another, sheer bafflement eclipsing their features.

“Gosh, you hear that Cuphead? We could work for a guy who thinks a compliment is to call someone good for nothing!”

“Right? We could work for the worst loan shark in all of Inkwell! Think of all the people we’d get to see hop ship on honoring their end of a deal with the literal devil like they were avoiding car payments!”

“Even better,” Mugman pressed his hands to his cheeks, stars sparkling in his eyes. “We’d basically be selling ourselves over because that same loan shark can’t even be bothered to admit he just doesn’t want us to turn his bones into paste!”

“Wait we’re missing the best part of all this, we won’t have to worry about a dress code because this place has none!”

“You’re just saying that because you want to wear your bunny slippers everywhere.”

“I am indeed.” Both boys turned to face Devil once more, twin expressions of mockery clear as day.

“But really, why? We did all of this so you wouldn’t take our souls, so why would we hand the contracts over if the second part, that you just _tacked_ on might I add, is that we don’t get freedom in the end after all?” Mugman glared at Devil, clearly articulating his answer. Cuphead shrugged.

“I mean, if we didn’t have to hand these things back I might be interested in working here. I’d probably be able to make that billiard guy cry, and I still have no idea where you dragged that magician off to.”

“You never will, brother. But really? Working for that lazy bum?” Devil bared his teeth at Mugman’s comment, Mugman was not impressed.

“Hey,” Devil reappeared behind them, throwing one arm over each brother’s shoulders. He looked at Mugman, red eyes sharper than the pearly fangs a mere foot from the mages face. “Technically, you wouldn’t be losing your soul, said no and all that. So this is between me and your brother, unless you change your mind, of course.” Mugman glared at him, his magic hissed.

“Hang on Mugs, what I’m trying to say is Elder said something about wanting us to find jobs. That’s it, I didn’t say I agree to anything yet.” Cuphead raised his hands in a placating manner. Mugman crossed his arms across his chest and arched a brow at Cuphead.

“You know, King gives me that exact same look.” Devil muttered to Cuphead, “Don’t worry, I’m a pro at handling that look.” He roughly rubbed Cuphead’s hat, ruffling the hair under the fabric. He turned to face Mugman fully.

“Kid, I didn’t say I’d take your soul did I? I simply offered a job. I like you rascals—”

“You’re lying. Looks like you lied about having the title ‘lord of lies’.” Mugman snapped, stomping down near the tail winding its way around his leg. Devil pouted.

“How exactly am I lying? I’m just trying to clarify, now come on, let an old fella prattle on, surely it won’t hurt anything?” Mugman’s only answer was to remain silent. So, Devil continued.

“Your deal was, if you brought those contracts back, I might let you go free. Now I never said I definitely would, not only that but working for me doesn’t mean I get your souls anyway. You recall getting a contract when you beat King?”

“No…” Mugman begrudgingly agreed. Cuphead watched Devil prowl around his younger brother, listening despite not being the intended audience.

“See? All I’m offering is a job. All I want in return, are those contracts, since, that _is_ part of your deal, and your time. You don’t even have to stay here like the rest! I’m not that uptight, you could work for me and still return to Elder dearest. What do you two say? Deal?” He spun to face the two, and held out a hand for each to shake. Mugman stared at it with clear suspicion. Cuphead, however, looked far more interested.

“I’ll let you wear bunny slippers too.”

“Deal.”

“Cuphead!” Mugman moved to smack his brother, but Devil intercepted, bending until he stared Mugman right in the eyes.

“Aren’t little brothers supposed to listen to their elders?” He rumbled, tapping Mugman’s far smaller palm.

“Well, sometimes, yes.”

“Yes? Good on ya!” With that, Devil snatched up Mugman’s hand, grabbed Cuphead’s outstretched one, and both brothers instantly felt something latch onto their souls, tainting them. Mugman tried yanking his hand back, tried using his magic to fight back the corruption, but it was far faster than his inexperienced attempts were. Cuphead crushed Devils hand in his grip, his last go at revenge before he likely wouldn’t be able to harm his boss again.

“By the by, that contract you got from Phantom Express, that’s King’s soul, he is contracted to me. And I was never one for technicalities.” Devil cackled, even as the bones in his hand turned to a fine powder under the older sibling’s strength. Bright red gained a violet tone, bright blue faded to a darker shade.

Outside, Inkwell wailed at the loss of its first children.

\---0---0---0---

The rune draining the magic from the garden burst in a violent show of light, nearly wiping out a third of the garden. The Root pack, tucked away into their home as they were, could only gaze at the crater now marring their land. Their fear didn’t last long, not when the blazing grip of an invisible hand wrapped around their souls, and _pulled_.

Hilda, perched on the edge of her observatory, shrieked when she felt hands tightly clench her soul. She toppled off of the ledge, and fell back onto the massive telescope, sliding down until her head smacked into the seat at the bottom. The pain didn’t last long, not when her soul being torn from her body wiped away all of her ability to feel any in the first place.

Ribby and Croaks didn’t really experience anything too horrible, not considering they were still unconscious, they never felt their souls fall to the one they’d hoped to have outsmarted long ago.

Goopy was much the same, frozen as he was, the pieces of his soul holding him in a stable form vanished. When the ice melted, he’d remain in place, though his body would hold stable, there was nothing to give him life, thus, he remained in that spot.

Cagney felt the hands grab his soul, tearing it away, but it was nothing compared to losing all love for his garden, gone away with his soul.

\---0---0---0---

The carnival trio all felt it right at the same moment. Baroness, believing the kids had fallen to the Devils power, simply cried, knowing any promises of revenge she made would be meaningless. Beppi hoped Devil wouldn’t pin the roller coaster cars on him, he also hoped he’d still have the chance to make someone laugh, even if it was his soul doing it in hell. Djimmi fell catatonic, djinn melded to his soul warring with the far stronger grip pulling them and their human host to hell.

Grim was lucky to have been in his tower at the time, as well as Wally in his hut. They collapsed like puppets with their strings cut, bodies remaining warped, but with no soul to animate them, give them their energetic personalities, they would remain as hermits, no longer feeling the joy their wings used to bring them.

\---0---0---0---

The robot didn’t feel much when its’ soul was removed, then again, it had wanted a soul to feel in the first place. Even so, losing something it had gotten a chance to have, hurt in a way that would linger long after the soul was torn away.

Rumor wailed as her soul was torn out, bees would never listen to a broken queen, she was as good as dead.

Cala and Brineybeard both felt it. They managed to share a horrified look, knowing full well what the pull meant. The crew would quickly grow to fear their mindless captain, they’d fear the entity swimming under their ship, ripping apart any other vessel as if on instinct alone.

Werner would quickly learn immortality meant nothing when surrounded by things that had the one thing he never would again. A soul, and the passion and drive that came with it.

The Express was fine, it had always been that way, and its special circumstances meant the contract was simply returned to it. The conductor wondered if his head would allow him to borrow the blue child, he really had enjoyed the race.

Sally paused mid word, stuttering her line in a way she never had before. She’d come to loathe the sight of her theater, as it reminded her that, though it had a prop for every play she’d ever need or write, she had no ability to emote. Her acting died along with her theater, and she’d never figure out how anyone had gotten to her contract.

\---0---0---0---

Grannie Chalice let out a string of curses so impressive, had Elder not been adding to the string, he’d have been impressed. His children were gone, and he highly doubted the Devil would give him visitation rights.

\---0---0---0---

King Dice awoke to a wave of healing magic not his own. He sat up, wincing at the growing headache, and came face to face with Devil.

“Hey, darling. Guess who got you a new pair of lackeys!” King Dice arched both brows, tilting until he could see the new workers. He felt torn. Part of him had believed the kids would outsmart his boss, but the larger part, the part owned by the casino, merely laughed at the fact that, though Mugman repaired the casino, he didn’t heal the workers. Evidently, he was content to leave them either to King Dice, or, to suffer their defeat.

Then he noticed the bunny slippers. He wished he could laugh, but the dead, almost emotionless quality to Mugman’s movements killed his humor. Cuphead still skipped around, it almost looked like he was even more energetic, as if trying to make up for his brother’s lack of emotion. With the way he refused to let Mugman wander further than a few yards, King Dice had no doubt that it was exactly the case. Devil draped himself over his manager.

“I’ll let you pick a place to put them, then you owe me a date!” King Dice twisted sharply, eyes glowing a vivid green.

“I said you’d get that if you put the casino back to it’s pristine state, last I checked, pushing everything out onto the outer casino property line and hiding it behind a stupid rook pillar doesn’t count.” He hissed. Devil whined, claws digging into King Dice’s shoulder and hip.

“But I got soul contracts.” Devil grumbled, though the undertone was far from childish. King Dice, however, was unafraid.

“No, my new casino workers did. Now I suggest you go back to your office while I reset this place. I’ve got pit bosses to fix and dolls to dress.”

“Bunny slippers have to stay.” Devil sing-songed, already making his way back up to his office, he’d get a date yet, he just needed to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee Mugman, trying to fend off corruption sure takes it out of you, don't worry though, your brother will try his damndest to fix you in a way only he knows, it just might take some time.  
> I might write more to this end, I might not, I'm not too sure. For now.....
> 
> That was bad, but, is that the only way it could end?


	20. But it Could Also End Like This...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another potential ending, but is it the correct one?

Cuphead kicked the doors in, and the boys entered.

“Well, well, well, look how far you’ve come!” Devil’s voice boomed, easily heard despite them being halfway across the chamber and far smaller than the beast of a man. He grinned at them, sharp teeth clear on display.

“When you say it like that, it sounds like we’re returning to a family member who we haven’t seen since the holidays.” Mugman looked decidedly uncomfortable at the idea of being related to Devil. Devil’s tail waved idly from side to side in a clear show of amusement.

“Well, you _were_ housed here, even if you didn’t stay. So really, we _were_ roommates.” He remarked, sliding down until he was slouched in his throne. “I suppose then,” He vanished from sight, reappearing right next to the boys. “Welcome back fellas, how was vacation? Did you do anything fun?” His tail swayed, knocking Mugman’s hat forward and nearly tripping Cuphead.

“It was pretty fun until this jerk got angry we were doing great in a casino. Ruined our whole winning streak and then made us run around cleaning up his mess.” Mugman replied, his hat casting a shadow over his eyes, though the sarcasm was clear as day in his voice.

“Aw shucks, but you did it right? You didn’t just act like you could hop out on a deal?” Devil, playing along further, leaned closer.

“You know, oddly enough, you share the same horrible breath as that jerk, roommate dear, would you happen to know one another?” Mugman bat his lashes, letting his magic send a burst of electricity through Devil’s arm the moment it draped itself across his shoulders. Instead of responding as he thought Devil would, Devil’s grin merely turned unnaturally wide. So Mugman, not one to be deterred, turned Devil’s skin and fur rainbow colored. Cuphead immediately doubled over, covering his mouth in a desperate bid to not laugh out loud.

“Okay, I’ll admit, no one’s tried this before.” Devil, looking purely amused, fixed his coloration with a flick of his tail. He stood to his full height. “Back to business, contracts, hand them over.”  He held his hand out to Cuphead, who pointed to Mugman. Mugman let the storage rune appear, but he didn’t pull them out.

“Just like that?” He stared at Devil, clear suspicion in his gaze. Devil tapped his chin, red eyes gleaming.

“Right, and tell me what your sizes are, you’ll be working for me from here on out. I do love me some amusing lackeys.” Cuphead shot ramrod straight, glaring at Devil.

“Wait what? That wasn’t part of the deal!” He snapped, suddenly very aware Devil was between him and his little brother. Devil threw his head back and laughed, pulling a familiar looking paper from thin air.

“Where do you see it specifically _not_ mentioned? Come on, I don’t know why you’re kicking up such a fuss, with that roller coaster stunt you pulled you’re basically bound for hell anyways. I’m offering you a sweeter deal than rotting in the pits.” He towered over the brothers, but noticed Mugman’s far sharper gaze where he’d have thought a fearful one would be.

“Yes, but it doesn’t say we _do_ have to work for you either. It’s not mentioned at all. So really, we could reject the addition, give you the contracts, and you couldn’t stop us from leaving. And if my brother’s going to hell, it’s not going to be a permanent stay.” Mugman spoke frankly, the storage rune flickering in and out of sight.

“That would normally work… but how are you going to leave _my_ place?” Devil shot back, a clear challenge in his voice. “Sure, you beat my good for nothing lackeys, but if you think they’re anything close to my skill, you’re dull in the head.” He spun his pitchfork behind his back, the tines screeching along the floor in a spine chillingly threatening manner. Cuphead began to edge around Devil to get closer to his brother, never taking his eyes off of the Lord of Hell.

“Based on _this_ ,” Mugman held out the list with all of the names between his first and middle finger, letting it dangle in the air between him and Devil. “I’d say it’s not that difficult to avoid you. We did what you wanted, so we wouldn’t even be breaking the deal if we handed the contracts over.” The only reason Mugman felt so confident, was because his magic was flowing just under the surface, giving an almost amused push at Devil’s direction, like it found his arrogance amusing. It had terrified him once, it would do that and more again if needed. That, and he never did like liars. Cuphead bit back a laugh, letting Mugman steal the limelight so he could continue making his way around to reach Mugman.

“You’re awful mouthy considering I could crush you before you even knew what happened.” Devil growled. Mugman assumed a pose Devil had seen his own manager take countless times. The ‘I’m so unimpressed by what you just said I have to take a solid ten seconds to try and work out why you thought saying that was a good idea, and after those ten seconds, I’ll likely _still_ not know’ stance.

“So could any klutz with a hammer. A duck falling from the sky could probably do us in. I’m not working for you, and neither is my brother.” Devils tail snapped out and wrapped around Cuphead, tossing him back before he could react. Mugman reached out to let his magic catch his brother, but the same tail wrapped around him and hefted him into the air. Cuphead managed to twist so he landed on his feet.

“How bold! But see, like you said, your name ain’t exactly on that contract, his _is_.” Devil pointed to Cuphead, dropping Mugman into a cage that appeared from nowhere. A wave of exhaustion hit Mugman, it felt like something had planted itself between him and his magic. He winced when he landed on the hard-metallic surface. Cuphead looked between his brother and Devil, bright glare marring his face.

“Let my brother go you furball. We got your contracts, why do you want us working for you?”

“How else do you think I get workers?” Devil replied, tail winding around one of the bars caging Mugman. “What. Do you think I can just put a help wanted ad in the newspapers? Are you kidding me? I can see that going over _so_ well.” He rolled his eyes, as if Cuphead had said something crazy.

“Sure!” Cuphead, glad his hands weren’t shaking, responded. “Here, I’ll even help you out. Help wanted, looking for more people to call good for nothing lackey while I sit and count money on a gaudy throne. Might pay you, might not, depends on my mood, apply today!” Devil barked out a laugh, smacking his leg with an open palm in mirth. The moment he closed his eyes, Cuphead put all of his strength into kicking off the ground and charging forwards, intending to break the cage.

Right before he hit the bars, the tail around it pulled it to the left sharply. Mugman crashed against the bars, but didn’t do more than wince. He was far more focused on getting to his magic. The same magic that was rolling like a stormy ocean, seething with all the rage 400 year and going magic could have. Which, to his surprise, was a lot. Already he could see cracks in whatever barrier was keeping them apart, his magic ripping into it, desperate to get back to its’ home and keep its new charge safe.

Cuphead slid to a stop, digging his heels into the hard tile.

“Nope, I’ll give him back when _you_ do as I say. I don’t know why you’re throwing such a fit over this!” Devil leaned on his pitchfork, the weapon staying straight despite nothing supporting it. “What is so bad about working for me? Aren’t parents nowadays demanding their little spawn go out and get jobs around your age? I’m offering one to you, a good one too. You act like it’s the worst thing you’ve ever heard.”

“You’re the Devil, you clearly don’t care about your ‘lackey’s’ or you’d be asking why I’m covered in whatever came out of that billiard guy when I ripped him apart. You’re threatening my brother, who, might I add, I trust and has a point. I have plenty more reasons, would you like me to wait while you get a pen and paper so you can write them down?” Cuphead rocked back on his heels, giving Devil a sharp rendition of a cheeky grin. Devil returned it with a smile of his own.

“No need, I’ve got one reason that tops yours. He hefted the cage up, tail lifting it with ease. The threat was clear, but instead of following it up with a remark about what he could do to Mugman, he frowned. “I’m the ruler of Hell, I don’t show affection in the same way. If I didn’t care about my lackeys, I wouldn’t revive them when a guest runs them through. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve had to bring back Pip and Dot. Don’t let that trapeze fool you, they’ve got the balance of a lemming.” He paused, watching Cuphead lose the clearly hostile edge to his posture.

“I never said I’d have your soul anyway if you worked for me. Did you get a contract from my manager when you beat him?” Devil paused so Cuphead could hesitantly shake his head. Mugman shifted in the cage, trying to pull his shoulder from one of the gaps. “See? He’s my manager, and he’s working here without a contract! I’d even let you and your brother go back to your Elder! I’m not _that_ archaic. It’d be like a normal job, except you could joke about your boss being the devil incarnate and the funny part is you wouldn’t be lying.”

“I—”

“Don’t you dare say yes Cuphead!” Mugman interrupted, feeling his magic pour through the gaping holes of the barrier. It was almost animalistic in how it continued devouring the remains of the barrier. The tail slipped through the cages bars and wrapped around his mouth, somehow blocking out his voice entirely. Mugman pulled at the leathery limb, wishing he could at least bite down.

“It would just be like a regular job?” Cuphead quietly questioned, mind racing, trying to take in the current situation to figure out just why Mugman had told him to say no. Devil nodded, Mugman began kicking at the bars of the cage, his magic just about done ridding itself of the barrier.  

“I… you’ll let my brother go if I say yes? Unharmed?” He shuffled closer, looking at his thrashing sibling who glared murder at Devil. Devil nodded once more, and held his hand out. Mugman managed to tear the tail from his face now that Devil wasn’t focused on him.

“Cuphead listen to me! Don’t even think about taking that hand! You didn’t listen to me before and look where it got us!” An eye grew on the back of Devil’s head, clear through the thick hair. It glared at him fiercely, causing his soul liquid to freeze in sudden fright. His magic, however, stared back at the eye, shadow crawling along the cage, acting like it was testing for weak spots when Devil knew damn well it had no need to. One lone gleaming iris stared at him from the shadow, then shifted down to watch Mugman’s continued thrashing against the hold of the tail and cage alike.

“Why not?” Cuphead, frustrated and nervous, asked, his hands pulling at his shirt hem.

“He—”

“Kid, you do realize you’re still on a time limit, right? How late do you think it is? If you don’t take my hand you’re mine anyway. Your brother reminds me of my manager, nervous nelly I think they call them. Use your noggin, aren’t you the elder brother?” He shrugged one shoulder. Cuphead, now panicking, let go of his shirt, and reached one hand out, face pale. The cage vanished entirely, and Devil’s tail was torn clean off by an invisible force. Mugman crashed to the floor, but even as he was pulling himself up, he spoke.

“Big brother, _no!_ He didn’t say he _wouldn’t take your soul!”_ Mugman’s voice was desperate.

“What else can we do?!” Cuphead replied, holding his hand out, ignoring his brother’s disbelieving stare. Devil’s heavy hand clamped down on Cuphead’s outstretched own. Cuphead felt something sink claws into his soul. It felt like someone was wrapping thick chains around his very being, and as they tightened, his soul fell to the corruption.

Mugman watched with horror as his brother’s cherry red colors darkened to a red-violet. His brother’s porcelain gained an ashen tone, and when his brother looked at him after the deal was sealed, Mugman only felt a numb betrayal. He recognized his brother in that gaze, but it wasn’t enough. He silently stood, staring at Cuphead with an unreadable expression. Devil cackled loudly, drawing that unreadable gaze back to himself.

It was at that moment Devil remembered, the blue kid had the same magic that had basically torn a chunk out of his own. Lord of Hell didn’t mean he was connected to it like the kid was to Inkwell. He remembered, because he felt his magic _dip_. He threw himself at the mage, he had one child, he’d have the other, even if it was in death. Instead a barrier flared to life, and just about fried him. He shot back, colliding with his throne hard enough to break the solid chair.

“Mugs.” Cuphead called out in a scolding manner. Mugman let out a frustrated shriek, stomped his foot, and the next thing Cuphead knew he was buried halfway in one of the pillars. He pried himself free, scrambling up to his feet. Though he knew he should be angry at his little brother for throwing him, he wasn’t. Echoes of his soul clawed at the corruption, begging to comfort his brother instead.

“Baby brother.” He tried again voice soothing. Mugman outright _glared_ at him in a way Cuphead had never seen. He froze, but determination ultimately won out, as well as indignation.

“Oh come on! It’s not that bad, Mugs! I’m still me.” Mugman’s glare vanished, and that’s when Cuphead truly felt fear. Corrupted soul or no, he’d _never_ seen such a cold expression of disdain on Mugman’s face, not even towards the debtors.

“You aren’t my brother. I didn’t sign that contract. I said no.” Mugman said, his voice apathetic. “My name isn’t on that contract, but I’m the one that holds the debtor’s contracts.” He turned to Devil.

His magic did what it always did best.

  **Devour.**

Devil might have been stronger. He might have been different from Djimmi in that, though devouring his magic would weaken him, it wouldn’t kill him. He’d still be able to crush Mugman if he chose. That is, if he didn’t collapse under the magic drain. That, and as Devil watched the child’s hands begin to shake, he’d have to hope the kid didn’t just rip him to shreds and bail with the contracts. Devil was immortal, all that would do is force him to regrow his body, but with no magic, that would take weeks at the very least.

He decided to try and use the elder brother as a distraction while his own magic desperately tried to tear away from the near void like hunger of the mage’s magic.

“What do you mean I’m not your brother? I didn’t suddenly—” Cuphead slammed into the floor, porcelain giving a warning screech from the impact.

“You didn’t listen. I told you no, and you didn’t listen. I… I thought you’d learned from the _last_ time you didn’t listen. You aren’t my brother.” Mugman hissed, loud enough to be heard, but too quiet to echo. Devil, mid step, locked up when the boy turned to glance at him once more.

“I’ve got a request.” Mugman said, turning so he no longer faced his brother. Devil stared at him, frown deepening. “I want to work here. But not for you.” Devil only tilted his head.

“Mr. King Dice’s name is also on these contracts, that means he’s got authority here. I want to work for him.”

“Can’t just leave your family to suffer hm?” King Dice’s voice echoed from the door, the man leaned against the frame, cradling his bruised face.

“He’s not family, not anymore, but I… I don’t know what else to do. I’m not giving over my soul, I’ll follow Cuphead wherever he goes, except…there are people who need my magic and if I hand over my soul I can’t continue helping them. I’ll follow Cuphead, but I won’t drag others down with me.”

Devil scoffed, he opened his mouth to tell Mugman his manager would never agree, but he was interrupted by his manager agreeing.

“Fine, you can work for me. You won’t have the protection Boss owning your soul would offer here, but hey, I won’t say no to help.”

“King, my contracts!” Devil whined. Mugman twisted, eyes alight with unholy wrath. Right before Devil’s face, the rune appeared, then, set ablaze with hellfire. The same hellfire Devil used, the same that had been assimilated by the kid’s magic.

“ _My brother.”_ King Dice didn’t think he’d ever heard so much vitriol in his life.

“Oh gosh, sorry Mr. Devil, but, you never said I _couldn’t_ burn them.”

King Dice knew right then this kid would survive in the casino. Especially when, upon lunging at the kid in rage, Devil was turned into a mouse, by what was likely his own shape shifting magic. Devil, drained as he was, would be stuck like that for a solid few hours. By the time he managed to turn back, King Dice would have led the boys out of the room and gotten started on picking the best spot for them.

\---0---0---0---

Mugman refused to talk to Cuphead at all. King Dice figured they’d settle, or he had, until he realized Mugman shared a few of the same traits he did. Both, unlike their boss and brother respectively, held onto grudges. Hopus had only just returned three weeks after the kids had begun working for the casino. Poor man still cowered in utter horror anytime the chef in training went past the stage.

Mugman held onto his rage, he didn’t avoid his brother, he simply acted like his brother was some random stranger. King Dice wished he could feel bad for the red doll, especially when Cuphead would look at the blue doll with such a look of devastated regret it caused demons and sinners around him to audibly wince. But, the kid had done it to himself.

Weeks into the silent treatment, Mugman finally spoke to Cuphead, but it was like one would talk to a co-worker new to the team. He still visited the debtors on the islands, they refrained from celebrating their freedom, mostly due to the hollow way he’d informed them. Cuphead, bound to the casino as he was, said nothing when his brother left. Though, King Dice didn’t miss the way he’d perk up when Mugman returned.

In a way, King Dice supposed, Mugman’s inability to truly abandon his brother was both a blessing and a curse for both. King Dice chose not to think on it too hard, he was simply glad that he gained another perfectly competent worker. Pirouletta had also taken a liking to the blue child, she’d started teaching him a bit of what she knew. He watched as the other casino workers warmed up to the boys to varying degrees. Wheezy seemed perfectly eager to help Cuphead learn how to use his appearance to fool angry guests. Cuphead, happy for an outlet to his anger and anguish, all but skipped over to potential fights. Sometimes, those that recognized him would shut right up and book it, deciding they had enough gambling for that day. Other times he’d “unfortunately” have to remove a problem.

Said problem usually ended up as a smear on Hell’s ceiling.

 The best part was that when something in the casino broke, Mugman would be plenty willing to fix it. Considering his strong brother broke plenty of things, bouncer that he was, it was plenty worth the five dates he promised Devil as long as Devil didn’t hurt his new non-soul bound worker.

He couldn’t recall the last time the casino’s repair bills had been so low.

Besides, people were always eager to sell their soul if they believed it would aid them in some way. Losing those contracts was no big loss if anyone asked King Dice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all better brace for the end. I'm not writing for anything but this.  
> As a side note, if you want to see more "after this ending" sort of things, like, you want to know more about what happens after the bad end, You sort of have to let me know. Be it at my tumblr or here.  
> But, gosh, that wasn't really a good end either! I know the general consensus seems to be that if Cuphead lost his soul, Mugman would turn into a simpering sobfest, but Mage Mugs? Not a chance. He's certainly devastated, but Cuphead gave his soul over, and unlike the other debtors, Devil has ahold of his soul. 
> 
> Perhaps we should try again?  
> That being said, surely some of you have seen Clue.


	21. Or, Perhaps this way?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well this is another version, but still, something doesn't seem right.

Cuphead kicked down the door, and the boys strode in.

“He has a throne?” Cuphead faux whispered as the two made their way across the large chamber.

“So, Mr. King Dice has a theme song and Mr. Devil has a throne… Do you think that means the other casino workers have unnecessary things?” Mugman whispered back, eyeing the affronted Lord of Hell perched on said throne.

“I’ll have you know I have an eclectic bunch of good for nothing lackeys and they’re all hilarious!” Devil snapped, though there was very little heat to it.

“Well I know at least two that aren’t exactly going to be up for being funny.” Cuphead pulled his shirt out, blatantly staring at the tar stains left from Mangosteen. Mugman huffed.

“One of those two isn’t coming back either.” He glared at nothing in particular, but Devil swore he heard his magician shriek. Chalking it up his imagination, he leaned his elbows on his knees and adopted the mockery of a friendly expression.

“But enough of that, look at you two!”

“He’s talking like Elder did when making fun of those old grannies.” Cuphead, with a mildly uncomfortable expression, remarked.

“Don’t say that! We have a ghost grandma now…you think if we tell Grannie Chalice what Elder did she’d scold him?”

“Mugs… that’s brilliant.”

“I’m so glad that my fearsome status as literal king of all demons allows me such joys like listening to a pair of collectors’ items talk about getting a father figure in trouble. I don’t know what I’d do with my life if I couldn’t do this.” Devil spoke with all the enthusiasm of a corpse. The boys returned their focus to Devil.

“Be dead because you’re probably well beyond grandpa status.” Mugman said plainly in return.

“Get beat up because you’d just be that crotchety old hermit that yells at everything.” Cuphead spoke just as plainly. Devil stared off into the distance.

“Actually, what does happen now? We’ve got the contracts, so… Do we just hand them over?” Cuphead leaned back, putting his weight on his heels. Mugman hummed, tapping his nose.

“Yeah, and then you go pester your new manager to get you set up here.” Devil spoke up, vanishing from his throne to prowl around behind the brothers.

“Why would we bother Mr. King Dice? We aren’t working here.” Mugman gave Devil an analyzing stare, suddenly far more alert than before. Devil snorted.

“You are now, just have to seal the deal by putting those tiny little hands of yours in mine with those contracts!” Devil all but shoved his hands into the brother’s faces. They stumbled back twin looks of growing realization.

“Oh, right, he lies…”

“But wait, is the working for him part a lie or is it the shaking hand thing, I don’t want to shake his hand Cuphead.”

“Neither do I, I don’t know where they’ve been.”

“Can we shake Mr. King Dice’s hands instead? He wore gloves and they were really clean.”

“Kids I’m two seconds from strangling you.” Both boys simultaneously lifted their heads from their shoulders, giving him equally smug grins. Devil’s face flushed a bright angry red.

“We aren’t working for you, that isn’t anywhere in the contract.” Cuphead put his head back down and let his hands drop to his sides.

“What I’m hearing is, you’re trying to back out of the deal.” Devil’s voice fell to a deep rumble.

“No that—”

“Welching on me just like all the others eh… I’ll teach you for backing out of a deal!”

“Mr. Devil wait—” Mugman tried again, sending a frightened glance at Cuphead. Before he could continue trying to figure out just where the conversation derailed to a fight, Devil’s tail wrapped around his waist, easily lifting him up into the air. Cuphead immediately shot forward, aiming to either break Devil’s tail or his femur, whatever he happened to reach first. Devil grabbed the punch, then remembered exactly why physical contact with someone with strength for days was a bad idea.

Mugman warped from Devil’s grip, right as Cuphead twisted his stance and threw Devil into his throne. The throne didn’t even stand half a chance.

“Okay but I want on record that you started it!” Cuphead shouted, stepping so he was between Devil and Mugman. Devil righted himself from his sprawled landing position. Bits of his throne rained down from his battered form, one swing and he was already deciding that Cuphead was the more dangerous of the two. His tail flicked like an agitated cat’s, and from the shadows of the throne room, his imps responded. The tiny creatures scattered into the battle zone, running at the two.

“They’re so cute!” Mugman cooed, he clasped his hands together near his chest and bent his knees a bit. “Look at them brother! They’re so tiny!” He waved cheerily to the nearest one, a few yards from him. It was then Devil learned that, much like his manager, the kid’s mannerisms didn’t always match his actions. Right as a good chunk of them got within a few feet, a circle flash-carved itself into the floor, bright sparks glittering daintily above the group. Mugman’s expression twisted into a sadistic grin, and lighting slammed down from above, blinding Devil entirely.

By the time he regained his vision all that remained of every imp that had been in the circle were bits of fried flesh and tufts of fur. Mugman stood in the center giving him a frigid smile. That’s about the time Devil remembered Mugman had the same magic that had left him sobbing in fright a good day after its original owner had left. It’s also when he realized there was a crackling sound still in the air, and he couldn’t see Cuphead.

He looked down and realized just where the red doll had gone.

Getting hit by someone with strength for days when they weren’t holding back hurt. It was like running full tilt into a wall at seven hundred miles an hour. Getting hit by someone with strength for days and electrified fists was infinitely worse. He’d honestly rather have had his wings ripped off again than ever experience it again. He slammed so hard into the pillars that he went through both it and the wall, and sailed out across Hell a twitching mess. He landed in the lake of corruption so hard he swore his lower half disintegrated along with his bones.

But, as he sank, mind wailing from the unbelievable agony, he got an idea. He wasn’t the Devil for nothing, and one way or another, he was going to win, even if it meant using Hell to his advantage. His magic kicked into high gear, fixing his torn body, using the residual magic in hell to expedite the process. The moment he was done, he reappeared, ramming into Cuphead in the form of a goat. Cuphead slid back, heels digging into the floor in an effort to slow them down before he was caught between horns and the wall. A barrier appeared between him and Devil, giving him a chance to dive to the side and reorient so he could lash his foot out. Devil avoided the hit by shifting into a mouse, scampering up Cuphead’s pant leg and turning into his original form.

Cuphead collapsed under the sudden weight, letting out a surprised wheeze. Devil’s pitchfork appeared in his hand and he moved to slam it into the stunned doll’s chest. A moment later he was on the ceiling of Hell, and falling. The more he thought about it, the more he thought he was falling a bit faster than he should.

From the room the boys were in, they watched a cloud of dust spring up from Devil’s impact. Mugman checked Cuphead’s chest, looking for any cracks from the blow, but found none. Sighing with relief, he let his magic filter out, searching for any signs of Devil’s magic. He hoped that by doing so he’d be able to know where Devil was going to show up before he fully stepped back to fight. Cuphead had a wide smile on his face.

“You increased his gravity didn’t you.” He nudged Mugman’s arm.

“I figured, since I can take gravity away, why not try adding extra?” Mugman shrugged, voice light.

“I’m glad you little shits are enjoying the fight! But you know… I think a change of scenery is needed!” Devils’ voice echoed so loudly in the room the brothers covered their ears. The brothers felt magic wrap around their bodies, and then they were on a floating platform over a lake. Cuphead noticed a problem right as Mugman noticed one too.

On the floating isle, there was still no Devil. Then from the waters below he rose, form far more massive than either brother had ever seen. He could have easily crushed Cala Maria in one hand if he’d wanted to. Both brothers stared, and stared.

“Now _that_ is one hell of a growth spurt.” Cuphead joked weakly. Mugman glanced over the edge of the isle towards the thick violet water below.

“There’s got to be so many vitamins in that water.” He mumbled, watching as a tiny rock slipped off the edge and fell into the lake.

“Try and hit me _now_ you little shit!” Devil sneered. Cuphead glared back, Mugman shrugged, his magic laughed. Devil almost smacked his forehead upon seeing the ground below shudder, then, healthy chunk of dirt rose above, held aloft by Mugman’s magic.

“Oh sure, you’ve got these up, but what can you do while _keeping them up?_ ” Devil hissed at Mugman, tail rising from the depths, aimed at the mage. It slammed down hard on a barrier.

“I can do a lot.” Mugman glared at Devil as Cuphead tried to figure out what he could do to help. “Would you like to play a game Mr. Devil? I call it magic roulette!” Cuphead felt an odd shift in the air around him. It felt like something was leaning on him but there was nothing there. Shuddering, he wondered just what the end result would be, because it felt like Mugman’s magic had a grudge against Devil and it was cashing in on its vendetta.

The air warped, pressed down, and then Devil was small again, staring with his jaw hanging open at the mage who stood across from him on dry land next to the lake. Everyone had been transported to the edge of the water, waves latching onto Mugman’s shoes. Mugman panted, unused to using so much magic so quickly. It wasn’t easy forcing a shapeshifter to re-shift either, his magic, though perfectly capable, was doing things he simply wasn’t used to too often.

“I’ve had it up to here with you!” Devil stomped his foot angrily, teeth grinding audibly, holding his hand up above his horns.

“I’m not that tall.” Mugman shot back. Cuphead went into action once more, forcing Devil to dodge. Any time Devil would try and fight back, a barrier would block his attack. After getting gut punched a few times, he’d had enough. Breathing hellfire, he charged Cuphead. Cuphead stood his ground, unable to move unless he wanted Devil to reach his brother instead. Right before Devil hit, he stopped almost unnaturally. He grinned, teeth gleaming.

“This two against one seems awful unfair, don’t you think? I’m jealous! I don’t have a mage putting barriers up for me.” His tail flicked up and down once. “But I know where I can get one.” Cuphead paled, turning just in time to see the pitchfork he’d forgotten about imbed itself in Mugman’s chest. Mugman, who’d been keeping an eye on Cuphead, didn’t have a chance to dodge. Instead of breaking the porcelain, it seemed to sink into it, as if its only goal was the soul housed within. Mugman stumbled back, staring wide eyed at the weapon even as he felt something crawl into his very soul.

Cuphead turned to pry the thing out of his brother, but it vanished, and Mugman collapsed, half in the water, half out. Devil’s tail wrapped around Cuphead’s ankle, tossing him into a nearby rock. The runes on Cuphead did their job of holding him together, as he slid down, focus still on Mugman. When his brother didn’t move, he turned all of his wrath on Devil. Devil, apparently gloating internally, gave an odd squeaking sound when he was slammed into by what felt like a mountain of force condensed into an enraged doll. He skipped across the water twice before unfamiliar magic curled around him and he was back on shore, all wounds repaired.

For a moment, he thought it was King Dice’s doing, as King Dice was the only one who ever bothered to repair his wounds rather than letting him sniffle over a papercut because ‘he’s the devil, he’ll heal it anyway.’ But, then he saw the mage, sitting up with the waves lapping at his back, hair gunmetal gray dripping water onto his still fingers. Cuphead, shaking with rage, turned to see the new opponent, and felt his own soul freeze. Mugman stared at him from under his hat, cruel, teasing smile on his lips.

“Baby brother?” Cuphead weakly called out, stepping closer. Mugman didn’t move, the eerie grin that didn’t match his sweet siblings face growing wider. Faster than Devil could see or move, Cuphead turned and threw a punch at him. A barrier appeared, sending Cuphead stumbling back from the force sent back his way.

“Cuphead, that’s my boss you’re taking a swing at, don’t be rude.” Mugman spoke, voice dripping with dark amusement. Cuphead glared at Devil, had Devil been a lesser man, he’d have feared for his life right then. But he wasn’t, instead he was just impressed at how much hate a kid could put into one glare. With this turn of events, Devil’s mood shot right back up.

“Change my brother back!” Cuphead demanded, porcelain rattling from his rage. Devil cackled, calling his pitchfork to his side.

“Nah, I sort of like him like that.” Devil said, tail wagging at the turn of events.

“You—”

“Brother?” Mugman’s voice was right behind Cuphead. The red doll spun on his heel, flinching at how close Mugman stood. His once merry blue eyes were darker, his porcelain had an ashen tinge. “Say hi to Elder for me, please?”

Cuphead was about to ask his brother what he meant, but the next thing he knew he was hovering in the air above the water. He shrieked as he fell into the ocean, body coming to rest on the sand only a few feet below the water. Hastily pulling himself up, he looked around. Off in the distance, he could see the bright lights of the carnival far, far away.

“Cuphead?” Elder’s voice called Cuphead’s attention to his left where Elder stood, looking more and more worried.

“Elder? What…” Cuphead’s soul raced, his porcelain draining of all color as he realized just what Mugman had done. He was back home, with no boat to reach the isles, and no brother at his side. Elder watched in mute horror as Cuphead collapsed back under the water in a dead faint.

\---0---0---0---

“You just didn’t want me killing him.” Devil grumbled, kicking at the spot where Cuphead had stood.

“Of course not.” Mugman replied, giving a light shrug. “He’s my brother.”

“I’m your boss!”

“Speaking of management.” There was as snap, and Mugman vanished, though Devil could still sense him in the casino.

“Oh… oh he’s good.” Devil stared at the spot, and laughed. He didn’t have both brothers, but he had one, and while he didn’t know where the contracts had gone either, he felt he’d gotten something better. Besides, had any of those debtors wanted the blue child back, they’d have to go to his casino, and he’d be waiting.

His pitchfork hummed eerily at his side, tines gleaming.

\---0---0---0---

King Dice was confused until he spot the stain of color on Mugman’s shirt. Recognizing it and the symbol emblazoned on Mugman’s neck, where his jugular vein would be, he figured out what happened. The pitchfork was quite loyal to its owner, so it was no surprise that when used to corrupt someone, it put every ounce of its power into it. So, while the lake of corruption might not have been enough, the pitchfork on top of it was plenty.

Mugman’s personality had shifted after coming into contact with the weapon and King Dice wondered if that was a good thing or not. The mage was amazing at being manipulative. He’d be able to spot a soul on the edge of signing a contract and within the hour be guiding them to one of the workers that dealt out contracts. King Dice, used to being the only one to do that, was relieved. The less work he had to do in that regard the better.

Though Pip and Dot hated him, Hopus had a deep-set fear of him, and Wheezy refused to go near ashtrays when the kid was around, plenty of the others took to him easily. He was rather sweet considering his soul housed echoes of the pitchfork, at least to people he liked. Anyone that badmouthed his older brother found themselves in the boiler room, trapped in the heat to either die or be found near death by the imps.

King Dice wondered why the brother hadn’t made a reappearance, but chalked it up to the elder sulking or hashing out battle plans for his return. It had been a few weeks since he’d seen the other spitfire. Every once in a while, he’d catch Mugman watching the entrance with an almost frightening focus. He’d return to what he was doing within a minute or so, but it was happening more frequently. Still, his new worker was quickly becoming a favorite of his. The casino was never in any sort of state of disrepair. Broken things were fixed within seconds even if Mugman wasn’t nearby.

Devil didn’t complain too much, though, the pranks Mugman pulled on him would get a hissy fit or two every once in a while. King Dice had loved the opalescent color shift the mage had done to Devil as his most recent prank. Devil, unwilling to upset his manager by putting his new worker out of commission by stapling him to the ceiling, let the pranks go. Besides, it got him a date or two, so he was sated.

\---0---0---0---

Cuphead had cried for an hour after finding the contracts on his bed. Elder set out to build a new boat, with Inkwell tearing trees from it’s isles and sending them over to be used via the currents. The moment he recollected himself he burned he contracts. He told Elder what had happened, hoping Elder would have an idea. Elder had slumped in his rocking chair, showing far more age than he ever had.

“If you had been the corrupted one, we’d have a chance, especially since Mugman never agreed. But, you got my strength, not my magic, so we’d have to find a way to get him to fight the corruption on his own. While I know he would, since, he was able to send you and the contracts back here, it’s hard to say if you’d even make it to him, what with him being in the lion’s den if you will.”

“I’ll rip that sorry waste of fur’s innards out and force him to eat them.” Cuphead hissed.

“We can try asking the debtors for help once the boat is finished. You need to figure out what will get your brother back without you having to fight him. That just won’t end up well for anyone.” So, Cuphead waited, he planned. He’d go to the debtors, he knew some might help, or at least have an idea on how to get in. Then, when he got his brother back, Hell was losing its’ King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mugman's magic is a quilt made of just about every kind of magic. He's carrying something that's been devouring magic from all over for centuries, hell, no one is even sure if it's only 400 years old, that's just when the family started writing about it. So, basically, yeah, He's got time magic. Is he the reason for so many endings? Perhaps in the future he's finally gotten the hang of one of the most difficult kinds of magic to learn. Who knows!  
> Just one more chapter. One more, and it's done. I'm going to miss this thing. but that means i'll be able to draw for this thing finally! I'll be posting the drawings I do on my tumblr because posting them here is a party I don't like going to. 
> 
> I think that the next ending might be the sweet spot, one more go, shall we try one more time?


	22. But Here's How it Actually Ended.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perfect.

“Cuphead?” Mugman calling out his brother’s name made Cuphead pause right before he kicked down the door. The brothers shared a look, Mugman saying all he needed to with his expressions alone. Cuphead replied much the same, simply giving a final huff of agreement before politely opening the door. The Devil sat on his throne, perched like a noble overlooking particularly hilarious starving peasant’s. The brothers walked over, postures relaxed but confident. There was no room for cowering in the Devil’s home base.

“Well, well, well, look how far you’ve come. I’m almost impressed!” Devil’s voice carried easily in the room.

“Well, well, well, that bruise I left on your leg is gone! I’m almost impressed!”  Cuphead’s tone was mocking, Mugman tilted his head.

“Cuphead? I think I see a piece of roller coaster car in his hair.”

“Oh yeah! It’s got the same color and everything!”

“That was you?!” Devil lurched forward on the throne, claws digging into the metal. “That fucking hurt you little shit!” He let out a deep breath, leaning back in his chair to stare at them. The two shrugged.

“Usually we dodge big things coming at us, do you not know how?” Mugman asked innocently, giving Devil a sugar sweet smile. Devil glared at them, beyond unimpressed.

“That ain’t no way to talk to your boss. But! You _did_ bring me my contracts, so I’m willing to let it go this time.” He leaned back, watching the sibling’s glance at each other in what looked like confusion. Then, Mugman cheered,

“Ha! I told you! I told you he’d add something silly!” Cuphead threw his hands in the air, groaning in annoyance.

“Forgive me for thinking he wouldn’t be that rude!” Cuphead mock snapped, crossing his arms and tapping his foot rapidly.

“You owe me ten hugs and tomorrows allowance.” Mugman sing-songed. Devil wondered if kids were just not scared of him anymore, he wouldn’t be surprised honestly if that was the case. Humans had been going on a weird path for a good long while. Slamming his pitchfork down to regain their attention, he gave them a single raised eyebrow and held out his hand.

“Now, actually, you’ve added that last part.” Cuphead said, staring at the hand loftily.

“That means that our contract isn’t in effect, since, you know, you changed the rules.” Mugman continued, brushing a piece of ash tray off of his shirt.

“Which means, we don’t have to hand those over, and we certainly aren’t going to work for you.”

“I don’t think Mr. King Dice would last half of a day with Cuphead if you tried forcing us to work here. You haven’t seen a vindictive Cuphead. I have.” Mugman nodded sagely as he finished his apparent warning. Devil began to growl. The room darkened, and things neither brother could see could be heard snickering at the increasingly threatening atmosphere.

“First of all, you underestimate my other workers. I selectively picked out the strangest ones, and somehow, he trained them perfectly. While I’ll never know how, he did it, and he’ll do it to you too. One more chance boys. Hand them over and I won’t break you.”

“So, either we work for you or…we work for you in a different way? Because it sounds like these contracts are how you get workers.” Cuphead shifted his weight to one foot.

“Well if you think about it, how else is he supposed to find workers?”

“Mugs, he’s supposed to be making a bunch of rude people slightly more uncomfortable than usual with that stick of his. He could just grab one of them. Actually, I think that _is_ what he did. Where else do you get skeletons?”

“Maybe Mr. Devil is a grave robber?” Devil finally snapped, rising from his chair with a deep hiss. The boys once again focused on him, their expressions unreadable.

“Welching on the deal just like all the others eh… I’ll teach you for backing out on a deal! Have at you!”

“Hold it.” Mugman held up a hand, and Devil was suddenly frozen in place, literally. “You like games huh? Of course, so then, would you like to play one with us? I call it… magic roulette.” There was a deep, wall shaking hum that filled the air, sending shivers up the spine of anyone that heard it. In the air in front of Cuphead, a circle full of various runes appeared, radiating a different sort of power. Cuphead watched as the residual heat from Devil began eating away at the ice, and the moment he was half freed, Cuphead did what he did best.

He wound back, and threw the hardest punch he’d ever thrown, putting every ounce of strength he could into hitting the most enhanced enhancement rune he’d ever seen. Both brothers had put everything they had into this move.

The wave of pure magic mixed with strength hit so hard, Hell mixed with Heaven.

Angels, with their toga’s torn to shreds from the force, stared with dropped jaws at the source. Some, who’d been drinking from a lake, either spat the water back out or fell in. The brilliant holy light fried a few imps that were too numb to move. There was a taller, larger, bigger guy in the back, towards the left, laughing so hard he turned bright gold.

Devil stood in the middle of it all, mute with shock. He looked completely different, with six pure white wings fluttering on his back, skin free from all the scruffy hair he’d grown except the pure gold hair falling down to his shoulders. A few angels swooned, one fainted.

“…Holy shit.” An archangel muttered, the boys didn’t know who it was. Another one smacked him on the back of the head angrily. The big guy just laughed harder.

“Cup?”

“Yes, Mugs?”

“I think… if we weren’t bound to hell already, we definitely are now.”

And with that, Hell filled with a different sort of scream from all those within.

\---0---0---0---

King Dice watched Pip and Dot shove another ash tray off of the pile on Wheezy. If he’d had Mangosteen, he’d have gotten his other strongest out by now. As it was, the Tipsy troupe were picking up his pieces for Devil to reattach later. Phear leap was trying to wake Chips up, and wasn’t succeeding.

From where they knew hell to be, a whole lot of screaming startled everyone.

“Odd, it’s not Tuesday.” King Dice muttered, then went back to healing what he could while Pirouletta continued trying to clean up the bar area as best she could.

Whatever happened wasn’t their problem. Good for nothing lackeys could be pretty vindictive when they wanted to.

\---0---0---0---

It did eventually revert back after a solid four minutes. By that time, screaming had turned to panicked shouts of

“Put it back!”

“Holy shit!”

“Stop cussing you moron!”

“I forgot how great an ass Lucifer had before he fell.”

“You’re going to hell for saying that.”

“I’m just admiring one of His creations!”

And so on.

Mugman’s magic cackled. Mugman decided that magic roulette was the best game, hands down. Besides, he told his brother, they’d have to die first to be sent to hell, and they weren’t fleshy mortals anymore. Cuphead just snickered, enjoying the show.

As soon as Hell had returned to the way it had been before, Devil shakily sat down on the floor, his hair fading back to black, his wings fading out of sight. Cuphead gave him a few minutes to reorient himself, then spoke up.

“The next thing that breaks is gonna be your pelvis if you don’t let us walk out of here peacefully.”

Devil stared at him, confusion and horror warring on his face.

“You’re tall. I’m not. I’ll hit what I can reach.” Cuphead replied with a casual shrug. Mugman brought another enhancement rune, smaller this time, out to hover over his hand.

“I bet with this you could liquify all of his bones.” He mused, examining it like one would a pretty gem. Devil, very clearly aware that’s exactly what would happen, and getting flashbacks to when Elder stormed through, did what he did then. He held up a tiny white flag, a piece of toga that somehow remained, and waved it. The enhancement rune vanished, the storage rune full of the contracts appeared, and promptly spat out bright fire as everything inside burned.

“Thank you, and have a wonderful day!” Mugman cheerily said, then both boys spun on their heels, and headed back out. Devil, deciding that he’d had enough for that day, went to sit in a corner and weep.

Devil would have to be dragged out from that room by King Dice, he’d continue to mutter hatred for the brothers under his breath for weeks. Sometimes, when he was just about to curl up and sleep, he swore he heard the sound of something unearthly cackle in his ear. King Dice began to just leave his door unlocked, sick of waking up to Devil scratching at it, sobbing for a hug.

\---0---0---0---

“So remember how we almost killed a few of you for your contracts?” Cuphead spoke into the microphone, out into the crowd of gathered debtors.

“Those are gone. We burned them. We also think we scarred Devil for life…. But that’s iffy.” Mugman finished.

“Wait,” Hilda said, holding her hands up. “You burned them? They’re gone? But we still have our powers!” Mugman shrugged.

“I’m a mage and I don’t know how magic works.” Elder, sitting on a bench near the back, nodded. He was glad he was towards the back, because in the next moment the stage was stormed by a few of the touchier former debtors and his boys were dragged into the biggest group hug of their life. Elder thought he saw a puppet looking thing kiss Mugman on the mouth but he wasn’t sure. Then again, he might have been right if the indignant shout from Cuphead was anything to go by.

As he watched Cuphead throw himself at the puppet with a war cry and Mugman stumble back, shock clear on his face, he knew that his idea to raise kids was the best one he’d ever had. About the moment Cuphead changed trajectory and latched onto Djimmi’s face with intent to kill, he got a warm, fuzzy feeling in his belly.

Even if he now had an ancestor in his home, declaring she’d be the best damn grandmother they ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not done with this sucker yet. I'm still going to write drabbles for it, but you'll find those in the drabble dump or in one of the upcoming side stories. Also, I don't know if I posted my tumblr anywhere on here. I probably did, but just in case... https://ephemeralmuse.tumblr.com   
> You got something you wanna say? Leave a comment or head over there... I feel like I'm pimping myself out....But it's where the art for this is gonna go so... 
> 
> I had so much fun with this, you have no idea. Or maybe you do? If my writing properly showed that. But, for now, much like the game's ending was short but sweet, So is this one. 
> 
> To everyone that left comments, read this thing, gave kudos, thanks. See you later!


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